


Pulling On Loose Threads

by Mytay



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Season/Series 06, Space family, Voltron Season 7 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-17 22:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15471189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mytay/pseuds/Mytay
Summary: Shiro tries to relearn himself and save his other self at the same time. Keith can't leave Shiro alone ever again, but he also needs to figure out what the hell is going on with Lance, and never mind his own demons. Lance seeks out ways to be useful, but distances himself from his friends (his family) in the process, and neither Keith nor Shiro can leave that be.In other words, the three most hurting members of Voltron finally acknowledge their wounds and try to actually talk their way into healing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone :) This one is a post-season six tale, a fix-it I started writing almost immediately after I finished watching. Mostly, I just couldn't let all of those major things that happened just go by unremarked. 
> 
> In other words, _I needed people to freaking talk to each other._ Also, I really wasn't one hundred percent satisfied with the resolution of the clone storyline, so there will be some AU elements to that. And since Adam happened, he's now referred to in this story ;)
> 
> My thanks as always to **Reader115** , especially when it comes to this fic. I had very much convinced myself that it wasn't worth posting, and she changed my mind with her advice and her encouragement :)
> 
>  **Important Note:** This first chapter is _Gen_ for the most part, except for mentions of Shiro/Adam, and hints at Keith/Lance. The main focus of chapter one is, well, dealing with several things, such as Lance's feeling of uselessness, Keith's tendency to sacrifice himself, and Shiro's readjustment period with his new body (and other clone related stuff). The second chapter, which is an epilogue, definitely has a focus on ship-related things, though again, a bit of talking through issues, too ;)

******

 

Shiro didn’t have much in the way of energy these days. No one expected him to be anywhere other than this bed, and he appreciated that. Whenever the urge arose to be _doing something,_ exhaustion would soon remind him that _nothing_ was better _._

 

What little energy he did have, between long stretches of sleep, was devoted entirely to making peace with everything that happened. Primarily, with stealing this body that wasn’t one hundred percent _his_.

 

Whenever Keith or the others weren’t in the room with him, Shiro focused his attention on relearning everything about himself. His Galra arm was gone, which made him lopsided, but he didn’t miss it. Not even a little. It had never felt like _his_ , and the nightmares it provided (planted or natural?) had now largely disappeared.

 

He had his old scars … and they disturbed him beyond telling. The Galra scientists/magicians … They must have studied _every square inch of his body_ to then replicate it onto this clone.

 

He did notice that a few of his newer scars were missing — scars he’d obtained _after_ he’d escaped the Galra with Ulaz’s help, the first time … The _only_ time. He was missing a gash on his lower left side, a thin white line that had emerged because he’d put off entering a healing pod for too long. He also didn’t have the silly starburst pattern on his foot from stepping on a beaker in Pidge’s lab — he’d been half-asleep, trying to get Pidge to bed with his eyes nearly completely shut. He'd tripped backwards over a half-built robot, knocked over several other items, and planted his barefoot straight down onto the glass. He’d cleaned it up himself and gone to bed with Pidge’s apologies (and laughter) filling his ears.

 

And speaking of his Paladins (his family), he now had memories of them that _weren’t his own,_ though they were mostly just flashes … Glimpses into a year he’d been absent — where his clone had taken care of them, though perhaps not always in the best ways. Shiro had derived a small amount of amusement from some of those memories … and some concerns.

 

He’d tried talking to Keith about Naxzela and about his fight with the clone, but Shiro didn’t think anything he said had sunk in. He also wanted to talk to Lance, but Lance had been studiously avoiding him (and everyone else) ever since they all arrived on Olkarion … Shiro had tried to reach out via Hunk, and then Coran, but Lance refused to tell anyone what was on his mind. Shiro had a vague idea of what it _might_ be, but he didn’t want to risk stirring up Lance’s insecurities if he was wrong …

 

“Shiro?”

 

He yanked the sheets up over his bare legs (a scar on his shin, from when the clone had also kept away from the healing pods after a mission — _Shiro_ hadn’t put that scar there, it wasn’t his).

 

“Hey, Pidge, haven’t seen you lately — how’s the ship coming along?”

 

He smiled, but he also carefully studied Pidge’s face; her eyes were shadowed, bruised from lack of sleep. She carried herself with dragging steps and slumped shoulders.

 

“Hyperspace jumps aren’t feasible, since we’d like to get back to Earth sooner than a couple of years, give or take a month. We’re back to trying to fuse Olkari and Altean tech to create wormholes. The Balmerans are providing us with two giant crystals …” Pidge stopped talking, her voice trailing off. “Shiro.”

 

He braced himself, keeping his expression as open as he could. “Yes?”

 

“Matt’s ship just landed, so he’s coming by soon. Before he gets here, I had to ask … You … you’re not mad, right?”

 

He blinked. “What? Mad about what?”

 

Pidge swallowed before speaking again, “That I made the anti-viral program to specifically target the code in your arm. I just thought anything related to the Galra Empire should have a remote off-switch or control protocol—”

 

“Pidge, _no,_ ” Shiro cut her off, vaguely disturbed by the tears in her eyes. Matt was on his way, and the younger man would _kill him_. (There’d been far too many tears lately — a certain Red-Blue Paladin, who had visited him twice in the dead of night, begging for forgiveness, in chorus with the voice inside Shiro’s head.) “No, Pidge, you didn’t use it against me, you used it against a virus that a Galra spy implanted in your system. Well done. Thank you for being so damn prepared and terrifyingly smart.”

 

She choked out a laugh and threw herself against him, her arms tight about his ribs. “I’m still sorry. I know it isn’t logical, but I am.”

 

“Okay,” Shiro said, raising his one arm to rest on her back. “That’s okay, Katie. As long as you learn to move on from this eventually.”

 

“Takashi Shirogane, have you made my beloved sibling _cry?”_

 

Shiro looked up from Pidge’s mane of hair to see a grinning, sparkly-eyed Matt Holt standing in the doorway of his room. He hadn’t accrued any new (visible) scars, Shiro was pleased to note — the only discernible change was that his hair was now long enough to tie back into a ponytail, though a few dishevelled strands stubbornly escaped over his ears.

 

Pidge untangled herself from Shiro, backing up to give Matt just enough room to walk over and sit on the edge of the bed. He jabbed a finger into Shiro’s chest. “How dare you, sir?”

 

“Please don’t start with the ‘sir’ stuff again,” Shiro complained, his mind skipping back to the Kerberos mission, to Matt’s enthusiastic scientific rants, cut short by, _Sorry, sir, will get back on mission, sir. Didn’t mean to bore you, sir._ “It took months to break you of the habit …”

 

“Shiro,” Matt breathed out, wide-eyed and now a _second_ Holt was tearing up because of him. Shiro really didn’t think he could feel any guiltier. “Shiro, I didn’t know. That guy, he looked exactly like you, and he _sounded_ like you. He even _hugged_ like you do …”

 

Shiro dragged Matt in with his arm, laughing against a head of light brown hair. “We hadn’t seen each other in over a year, Matt. If you had picked him out as a clone, that would’ve been some freaky magic crap — and I know how you feel about freaky magic crap.”

 

“Yeah, I deeply resent the overturning of my scientifically dominated world, but that isn't … Wait, _y_ _ou remember that?”_

 

“I have some of his memories,” Shiro explained, wincing, only just realizing that had been _the other’s_ recollection, not his own. “Sorry, things are mixed up.”

 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Matt rushed to say, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I … wow, I just … I’m so relieved you’re here. And I’m here.”

 

For the first time in a long, long while, Shiro felt his heart lighten. Matt had been one of his biggest regrets — leaving both him and his father alone in that prison ship … Shiro had never been able to reconcile with that, and it had left him with a churning in his gut that rarely abated.

 

While Shiro had been "missing in action," he’d had a vague awareness that Matt and Sam Holt had been found, but having Matt in his embrace made that all the more real. He could finally put that ghost to rest. He wanted to ask Matt about so many things, eager to hear his answers, his suggestions, but the words were lost as he yawned.

 

“Yeah, they said you needed like, a year’s worth of sleep,” Matt said with a tired smile of his own. “C’mon, Katie, let’s let the hero get his rest.”

 

Pidge hopped over to her brother’s side, elbowing him as she leaned in to poke at Shiro herself. “He means actual sleep, by the way. I know you’ve got some ideas about leaving this bed—”

 

“I’ve got a great view, good company, and a decent meal plan,” Shiro corrected her. “I’m fine where I am, trust me.” His eyes were already closing, a voice calling out to him.

 

“Gotcha, Shiro,” Matt said, his hand lingering on Shiro’s shoulder. “See ya later.”

 

He never heard them leave — he was already lost amongst the stars. Yet it was so comfortable, so familiar a place, even if it wasn’t _his_ any longer. He’d given up the right to be here to someone far more worthy. But a tenuous connection remained to a voice calling, desperately lonely, weeping, crying out over and over, _I’m sorry, I didn’t want to, I tried to fight her, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry._

 

And Shiro reached out, like he did every night, to console, to talk, and to try and disentangle themselves from each other, while confirming who, exactly, was who.

 

******

 

Keith blinked against the dawn of Olkarion, his eyes protesting the burst of light. He should’ve drawn the shade down in Shiro’s room, though Shiro seemed fairly undisturbed by the sun.

 

Shiro had been sleeping three-quarters of the day, every day, for the past week. Between meetings with the Voltron Coalition, the Blades, and Olkarion’s engineers, Keith had been here, in this room. He’d been missing Shiro for what felt like years (a year after the Kerberos crash, two years on the back of a space whale), and learning that Shiro had been inside the Black Lion _all this time …_

 

Keith was having a hard time taking his eyes off him. He’d had a long while to speak with Krolia between flashes of memories. Those living flashbacks forced them into conversations they might have otherwise avoided.

 

She was family, but not in the same way that Shiro was family.

 

Shiro had taken Keith aside and told him he was _worth_ something. He’d endured hits to his reputation, snide comments about his judgement, and never once wavered in his support of Keith. He’d given him an awkward sex talk when Keith had turned fourteen; he’d ruffled Keith’s hair, hugging him close when Keith had confessed that girls were not part of that equation (and later he’d introduced Keith to a tall, slender man named Adam, a high-ranking Garrison officer who had been full of dry humour, his handshake firm as his other hand rested low on Shiro’s back).

 

Krolia … his mom …. She’d left for good reasons, but that didn’t change the fact that _she hadn’t been there._

 

Shiro had been. A couple of years after he’d lost his dad, Shiro had become Keith’s brother in all but blood. Leaving Shiro alone wasn’t an option anymore — not when the man might vanish, _literally, this is a thing that had happened._

 

The hair had been jarring at first — not quite white, like Allura’s, but a very pale grey, a shock of silver faintly glimmering in the sunlight. Shiro looked far older than his years. Keith hated it. Just like he hated the fact that they were closer in age now … He’d celebrated his twentieth and twenty-first birthdays on a space whale with his estranged mom. He didn’t feel that much older, not really, but at the same time, everyone else seemed _different_ (younger? No, it was the new inside jokes he didn't understand, the references to events that he missed).

 

“Did Lance come to the meetings last night?”

  

Keith jerked in his seat. Some spy he was — he hadn’t even heard Shiro stir. Then he absorbed the question and felt his mouth form a scowl. “No, he didn’t. No one seems to know where he disappears to, either.”

 

“I heard him once, in this room, right as I was falling asleep,” Shiro told Keith, yawning between words. The doctors had said this fatigue was normal. And that he should start staying awake for longer periods soon. Keith would almost be okay with Shiro spending the next year sleeping off everything that had happened. He deserved all the rest (and he’d be in one spot, easy to keep track of).

 

“Lance thinks he’s responsible for this,” Shiro told Keith with a frown. “Can you get him in here? But don’t force him, not if he’s not ready. I just … I need to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. It was so outside of our experiences, how could he have known? I didn’t even get a chance to say anything—”

 

“Could you worry about yourself, _for once,_ ” Keith demanded, exasperation causing his hands to rip a small hole in Shiro’s sheets. Little flashes of Galra strength broke through more easily since that fight with the clone. He released the blankets, crossing his arms self-consciously.

 

Shiro gave him _that look._ Keith groaned. Then Shiro started in with his _superior officer tone,_ “Lance is family, and he’s had a lot to deal with. I’m not the only one who’s had a rough time. Sometimes we get caught up in other, more urgent issues and forget the ones closest to home.”

 

“If I go and check on him later, will you stop stressing out about it?” Keith stood up to get a new bedsheet for Shiro, feeling the smug look directed at his back.

 

He turned around to glare, and Shiro didn’t even _bother_ hiding his smirk. “Yes, Keith. That was kind of the whole point of me guilting you into it.”

 

Keith threw the sheets into Shiro’s face. “You suck.”

 

Shiro just grinned, and he looked so much better — so alert and _here._ “Love you, too, little bro.”

 

******

 

Lance sat on the edge of the cliff. When the sun on Olkarion began to set, the orange rays hit him directly in the eyes. He squinted against the bright light, staring down into the forest spread out before him.

 

It had taken them a couple of weeks to find their first outpost — and they had been lucky that it was one belonging to a member of the Voltron Coalition. They established communications with the Olkari there, and Ryner sent a large flagship to spare them an extra long trip back to her planet.

 

Once they had settled in … Lance had found something else to do. Namely, _anything_ else that involved being away from the team.

 

He threw himself into any physical task he could find — and finding them was _tough._ Olkarion had those crazy nature-based science powers, and so it had taken him a while to discover folks who did things by hand. It turned out there were still some tasks best done with good old-fashioned elbow grease.

 

Shiro had been spending all of his days (and nights) in a medical ward, with everyone taking turns hovering over him; Keith spent the most time there, hanging out by Shiro’s bedside whether Shiro was awake or not (most often he wasn’t awake — the Olkari doctor said he’d be sleeping the days away for two or three weeks more).

 

Lance had visited once or twice, in the middle of the night, while Shiro had been asleep. He’d cried again, to his shame. He couldn’t stop seeing Shiro reaching to him on that plane of existence (inside of the Black Lion? How had Lance even gotten that far inside of Voltron’s mind connection thing?), begging Lance … _Listen, listen to me._ He hadn’t been strong enough to hold on, to wait and hear the full message … Shiro had been trapped inside of the Black Lion for _months,_ and Lance could’ve saved him. Saved his idol, his friend, his leader.

 

The crushing guilt collapsed him at Shiro’s bedside, on the floor. He'd cried, muffled into his hand, until he felt wrung out. Lance had fallen into his bed later on, comatose for nearly twelve hours.

 

Hunk, Pidge, and Coran were busying trying to design a ship that could get them to Earth, with help from Ryner and her engineers. Krolia and Keith were … shockingly well adjusted, and Krolia had just taken off to reunite with a few other Blades. (Neither Keith nor Krolia said much about their mission — about the fact that Keith seemed … _older_ then he should be. Closer to Shiro in height and broadness. And with a five o’clock shadow.) Matt was on his way back from working with the rebels. Keith and Allura were alternating leadership duties.

 

Lance didn’t really have much to contribute to anything here. Hence the need to keep his hands busy and his mind occupied. Normally he was all about the sloth life, but … not when they’d just lost their home. Not when they had to make it back to Earth. Lance couldn’t think too hard on that subject, otherwise he would lose his mind with desperation to just be there _, now,_ with his mamá.

 

“Lance?”

 

He jerked, flailing his arms, and _wow, falling off a cliff while half-asleep, what a stupid way to die …_

 

A strong arm grabbed his wrist, yanking him away from the edge. “Damn it, Lance, watch yourself!”

 

He tilted his head back, eyes narrowed as he glared up at an annoyed Keith. “Well, screw you, jerk, _you’re_ the one who nearly pushed me off a cliff!”

 

Keith sighed, and _there it was._ Once upon a time, Keith would’ve had a comeback for Lance, or a frustrated growl. Now he acted like Lance wasn’t worth the energy, and that was just _it._

 

“Whatever it is you gotta say, I’m not interested.” Lance wrenched his wrist out of Keith’s grip, standing up and _damn it all to hell,_ he hated the reminder that Keith was now _one inch_ taller than him (maybe even _two_ ). “I’ve got to go help Kervenn with his inventory transfer, so if you guys actually need something from me, you’ll just have to get in line. I’m in high demand.”

 

“We don’t need you to do anything, Lance” — Lance held back a wince, but only just — “other than explain _where the hell you’ve been_ for the last few days.”

 

“Week and a half,” Lance corrected, and he did a very good job of keeping the anger (and sadness) from his tone. _W_ _ell done, Lance, totally could’ve been an actor in another life._ “And I still come back to the house to sleep and stuff.”

 

“That’s not the point.” Keith crossed his arms, his frown more prominent than ever. “You don’t take a comm with you, and we’ve had a few meetings with Ryner and others in the Voltron Coalition about _important stuff._ It’s not just about building a ship. We need to keep an eye on the Galra. Haggar … Honerva … whoever she is, she’s planning something. They’re disorganized and scattered, but they won’t be for long—”

 

“Okay, cool, you’ve caught me up,” Lance said impatiently. “I assume you guys have some kind of contingency plan?”

 

Keith blinked. “You … Lance, you’re a Paladin, you’re supposed to be at these meetings.”

 

“I’ve been doing Paladin things, like _helping people,_ ” Lance interjected. “Keith, do you guys have a plan?”

 

“We have a couple,” Keith said slowly. “But we need you there—”

 

“Just send me a summary or something.” Lance fluttered his fingers dismissively. “Whenever you’ve got a plan, I’ll come and do my thing. Or … if Shiro is better by then, you could have him in the Black Lion, and you can take Red back.”

 

“What? Would you be taking Blue back from Allura?” Keith had gone from annoyed and frustrated to completely confused and lost; Lance was sort of amused. Even at one inch ( _fine_ , it was two inches) taller, broader, and generally more mature, Keith still had that same little kid expression of total bafflement. It was almost cute.

 

Lance and Keith had been friends once. While Keith had been struggling with Black, and Lance had been struggling with Red … They’d found equilibrium. Lance had been learning how to strategize and advise, and Keith had been learning how to take advice and lead with it.

 

It had been amazing, even while they’d been desperately missing Shiro. (They had never truly gotten Shiro back, and Lance felt marginally better about Not-Shiro ignoring Lance’s advice and strategies. The real Shiro always listened. The Not-Shiro had been … close, but not real enough. Lance had nightmares about him — ones where Lance had killed him. Or he had killed Lance. And hadn’t Not-Shiro sort of died? Now that Real Shiro had taken his body? It was all kinds of messed up, is what it was, _freaking hell_ ).

 

“Lance? Lance, what’s wrong?”

 

Keith’s face swam into view, and it was the scar along his jaw and cheek that drew Lance back to reality. Back to this conversation that he no longer wanted to be having.

 

“Whenever we need to do Lion stuff, call me.” Shiro was still a long way from getting better, therefore, Lance still had to fulfill his duty, and so he _would._ He was a damn good Paladin — a good fighter. He just didn’t have much else to do outside of that. “I’ve really gotta get back.”

 

It said a lot about how confused Keith was that he didn’t follow Lance. Lance expected more nagging from him, but not today, nope, Lance was _not_ having it. But soon — Keith had always been like a dog with a bone when he had a problem to solve. (Speaking of canines, now he had a cool, transporting pet wolf, too? What even?)

 

Lance worked without a break for another three vargas, well into the night, and when he finally crumpled onto his bed later, he fell into a blissful oblivion.

 

******

 

“I don’t get it.” Keith put his feet up on Shiro’s bed, ignoring the dirty look his dirty boots got. “He’s … I would say he’s being his usual _avoid all the hard work, all the time,_ but he’s … He’s doing _actual hard work._ He’s gonna get bigger than you at this rate.”

 

Shiro gave him a sly little look, pausing in his reading of Ryner’s latest report on the Galra Empire’s movements. “Hm. Interesting, he said the same thing about you when you came back from—”

 

“But he needs to be at these meetings, Shiro,” Keith cut him off, uninterested in whatever joke Shiro felt the need to share. “He’s a defender of the universe, right? I mean, _come on,_ what’s he even _doing_ …”

 

There was a heavy sigh. “What, exactly, did he say?”

 

“That he had other stuff to do? That he was fine with just getting summaries, and whenever we actually needed him to defend stuff, he’d be there, or we could swap the Lions around if you’re better, and he could …” Keith trailed off, watching as Shiro sucked in a breath, and then let it out in a long exhale.

 

“Keith, you need to talk to him some more.”

 

“About _what?”_

 

Shiro seemed to be biting his tongue for a moment. “I’m not sure if my hunch is right, but just keep at it. I think it’ll become obvious to you what might be happening here.”

 

“Why can’t you just tell me?” Keith asked, perplexed.

 

“Because you’re not exactly subtle, and my hunch might be wrong. I don’t want to risk alienating Lance further.” He seemed sad. “We all need a rest, honestly. This might be Lance’s way of recuperating.”

 

Keith opened his mouth to complain, then paused. He’d had two years. Granted, two years of survival in the wilderness, but he’d had his mom, and he’d had Aldrin. It had been quiet. Restful between the waves of memories. Oddly relaxing, even as tension thrummed beneath his skin to get to the centre of the anomaly he and Krolia were chasing.

 

“Okay, but if Lance stonewalls me again …”

 

“We’ll see. Pay attention to what he says, even if he’s not telling you directly. Sort of like I had to do with you in the early years.” There was fondness in Shiro’s words. “You said a lot even when you were giving me the silent treatment.”

 

“I don’t know Lance as well as you knew me,” Keith protested.

 

“You know him better than you think,” Shiro countered. “I heard about how well you worked together, when you were in the Black Lion. But granted, there’s been more distance now, so maybe you have to relearn a few things about him.”

 

There was an undercurrent to Shiro’s voice he didn’t really understand, but he was already mentally preparing himself for what would probably be another unproductive conversation with Lance. He’d been having a _much_ easier time with Pidge, Hunk, and Allura. They were willing to give him the details on what he’d missed while he’d been with the Blades. Especially Hunk and Pidge, who were bursting with all kinds of interesting facts … Hunk had gone into raptures over milkshakes. Keith sort of wanted one, even though he was lactose intolerant.

 

Maybe if he got through to Lance … “Wait.” Keith pushed his hair away, yanking it back into a quick ponytail. He’d need a haircut soon. “Why aren’t you asking Hunk or Pidge to talk to Lance? Or Coran? They’re way closer to him than I am.”

 

Shiro gave Keith an unimpressed look. “Hunk tried. But he’s too close to Lance, ironically enough, to push him on this. Pidge is working with Matt, Hunk, and Ryner on the new ship basically twenty-four seven. Coran gave it a shot, but Lance just wouldn’t say much. Allura is busier than everyone else put together. You’re the best option.” His lips twitched upwards, verging on a smirk.

 

Keith frowned. “If you say so. I still think this won’t lead to anything.”

 

That smile put Keith on edge, and he couldn’t even say _why._ Shiro went back to his report, still grinning. “Trust my instincts, Keith. Now, get going.”

 

And because he did trust Shiro, Keith went, but not before pushing the button that dropped Shiro’s bed into a totally reclined position in a sudden and violent jerk. The pad went flying.

 

Keith ran from the room before the barrage of pillows could hit him, all to the soundtrack of Matt Holt’s laughter as Keith skidded into a wall before taking off.

 

******

 

“What was that?” Matt demanded, chuckling between words.

 

“A bit of manipulation,” Shiro admitted, adjusting the bed back into a more comfortable position. Matt had bent down to grab his tablet, which Shiro accepted with a nod. “Thanks. Keith’s the commander now, so I want him to pay close attention to his Paladins. There’s a crack or two that need mending.” And a hint of something else, not quite broken, but perhaps an opportunity for mending all the same …

 

Matt tilted his head. “Keith’s got a good head on his shoulders. Back when I first joined up with Voltron, Katie gave me a detailed run-down of her time with you guys. She had a lot to say about all of you, and Keith seemed to be a pretty cool figure in her eyes, even though he was prone to” — Matt cleared his throat, adopting a fairly decent imitation of Pidge’s exasperated tone — “ _fits of awkward broodiness, and this dumb tension with Lance that they should either kiss out or punch out, I don’t even know._ ”

 

Shiro broke into laughter, clutching his side. “Well, she’s definitely got a few things right. Keith is more awkward than broody. And as for the tension with Lance … I’m trying to steer them away from the punching resolution.”

 

Both of Matt’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? That’ll be a thing to attempt.”

 

“We’ll see what comes of it.” Shiro shrugged. “I just want them to rekindle the friendship they were building while Keith was leading. If that happens to alter their relationship in a different direction …” Shiro shrugged again, unable to keep a crafty grin off his face. “I’ll have something to hold over Keith’s head _forever.”_

 

“You are _such_ a terrible older sibling.” Matt smirked. “I approve.”

 

A contented but distant hum sounded, audible to Shiro alone, and he grew distracted — that fraying connection normally didn’t bother him during the day at all. The humming faded, and he lifted his gaze up from where it had fallen to his blankets. Matt watched him, faintly concerned.

 

“Is something hurting?” Matt asked. “I’ll get someone … or if I’m making you tired, I can head out, I know that Keith has been here for a bit—”

 

“No, stay.” Shiro surprised himself with the vehemence. “I miss you all. It’s been good to rest, but the downside is not being able to just … seek you all out when I need conversation.”

 

“Wow, way to articulate your needs there.” Matt seemed genuinely impressed despite the note of teasing. “You normally would rather play the noble, stoic hero …”

 

“I wasn’t as bad as all that.” Shiro kicked at Matt playfully. “And I’ve definitely learned better since …”

 

A memory burst forth, a flash of dark gold-brown eyes narrowed in concern, hands reaching out to grip Shiro’s shoulders, begging, _Don’t lie to me when you’re hurting, Takashi. All I want is to be there for you._ He hadn’t heard that voice in his head in a long, long time. He’d been actively repressing it, in fact, since … “Well, everything. It does no one any favours if I pretend to be fine when I’m not.”

 

Maybe a touch of falsehood coated his tongue as he spoke, but he honestly had his situation well in hand, and he had every intention of asking Allura for help. Or maybe he’d reach out to someone else — someone who had a naturally chatty, out-going demeanour, yet had somehow become more reclusive, unwilling to share his own pains. Shiro trusted Lance, trusted his empathy and talent with people.

 

“You keep drifting off, Shiro.” Matt bit his lower lip, his brow furrowing with concern as he stood up. “I think I should go.”

 

“Matt, wait—” He snagged Matt’s wrist, tugging him down. “Sorry, I’m just … not all there, right now.” A little closer to the truth.

 

Matt breathed out heavily. “Yeah, I can see that.” He sat back down, looking determined. “What do you need, then?”

 

Shiro smiled. “A friend to keep me from drifting off. Also, maybe someone to help with keeping an eye on the team. Allura, Pidge, and Hunk are liable to work themselves to the bone, and Coran is not much better.”

 

“I don’t think it counts as rest and relaxation if you're trying to command from the medical wing.” Matt raised an eyebrow. “Can’t say I’m surprised, though. You’ve been rocking the command vibes since you were a cadet, I hear.”

 

“Maybe, but I had one weakness — about fifty tickets for speeding waiting for me back home.” Shiro arched an eyebrow back at him. “So, you’ll help?”

 

“Naturally.” Matt grabbed his pad. “But only if you take a break from reading reports. No wonder you’re sleeping all the time. Let’s play poker or something. Or, hey, I can program a few games onto here … I’ve got a couple that might actually be fun for you. Challenging to the point of tears.”

 

Shiro perked up at that — Matt did have a wicked mind for puzzles. “Okay, that sounds good to me.”

 

“Awesome.” He’d already brought out his own tablet, transferring data from his to Shiro’s. “Bet you’ll want to throw me out after the first level.”

 

Shiro actually kicked Matt out on level nine. Matt had been offended by Shiro’s quick progression and had begun to distract him with sea shanties and terrible puns.

 

Later that night, after Shiro had fallen asleep, it had been a lot easier to make that tenuous connection, increasingly frayed though it was.

 

He conceded that a lot could be said for resting the mind as well as the body, though he knew it would take time for him to make that a habit. If he had done this sooner, Adam would have been ecstatic in that quiet, restrained way of his … And there was the scar reopened; a name he hadn’t even allowed himself to _think,_ now laid bare to a curious mind, a mirror to his own — a mind that had no recollection of that particular name and what it meant … Apparently, the Galra hadn’t found _this_ in his memories, hadn’t been able to give _this_ away. Somehow, that gave Shiro a little added peace, even as that old wound ached.

 

That scar was his, and his alone.

 

******

 

On Lance’s twelfth day of carrying heavy boxes, Keith showed up again.

 

“What is it now?” Lance demanded, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

 

“The others are busy, okay? I’m the only one right now available to deal with …” Keith waved a hand between them, looking frustrated, though Lance couldn’t figure out _who_ he was frustrated with — himself or Lance?

 

“Keith, more words are needed.” Lance bent down and picked up another heavy crate, smiling at Edrina, winking when she smiled brightly at him in return.

 

Keith scowled when Lance just kept right on walking over to the next crate that had to be moved from this warehouse. Nothing in these boxes could interact with anything electronic — something about an experiment or a _fragile particle field._ Point being, the warehouse was _huge_ and would be keeping Lance busy for _days._

 

“Keith, you’ve been gone for … however long. Things change, okay? I’m not the same person, just like you’re not. Nothing to see here, move along.”

 

“Lance, in your time, I was gone for a few weeks on that mission.” Keith picked up the crate next to Lance, and he didn’t even struggle, the jerk, despite the fact that it was clearly way heavier than what Lance was carrying. “You’re not that different. Except that you are, in ways that mean something _not good._ ” He looked plaintive with his eyes wide and his mouth curved downwards.

 

“Keith.” Lance put down his crate, sucked in a huge breath, and faced his fellow Paladin. His friend. Keith stared back at him while holding his heavy box; Lance took in the longer hair, the scar, and the shadows under his eyes. “Keith, man, have you been sleeping? Like, at all?”

 

Keith put down the box, tugging on his ponytail. “That’s not what I came here to talk about, and yeah, enough.”

 

“No, not enough because you look like death warmed over, dude,” Lance insisted. “Before you come at me for … whatever, maybe take better care of yourself? You’re not gonna be able to be there for Shiro and for Voltron if you crash and burn.” Lance paused, wondering if this was a waste of his time, but then decided _what the hell,_ it’s not like he had anything to lose. “Do you need to talk about stuff? Like what happened with Shiro? Or with your mom? It’s pretty wild that you found her.”

 

For a moment, Keith actually seemed to be distracted, his expression going soft. “Well … yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I was angry, at first. But those memory flashes I told you all about, they helped. A lot. I saw what she’d been through, and she saw what I’d … and my dad …” Keith fell silent abruptly, his cheeks flushing as though he hadn’t meant to reveal that much.

 

Lance’s heart clenched. Selfishly, he wondered about his own family. _Something_ could have happened while he was gone. He prayed fervently that everyone was alive and healthy, and … Lance tried to focus back on Keith, who was pulling himself together quickly, glaring down at Lance ( _down, that sucked_ ) with those unnaturally grey-purple eyes.

 

Keith regrouped enough to point an accusing finger at him. “Believe it or not, I actually talk about feelings. With people, even. Being two years older has taught me a lot about keeping things bottled up inside.”

 

“Ha ha,” Lance said, grunting a little as he dropped off one box and switched to one as big and heavy as Keith’s. “Two years, sure.”

 

Keith tilted his head to one side, mouth pursing in thought. “Wait, do you … not believe me?”

 

“You mentioned the time thing,” Lance said through gritted teeth. “I get it, time passed weirdly, you got bigger and scarier, and all, like, extra bad boy.”

 

“Yeah. Lance, I was there for _two years._ ” Keith emphasized with a gesture at his body — and Lance hated how his eyes caught on the broader shoulders and narrow waist. The envy was making his arms shake (not the weight of the box, no, nope). Keith finished off by saying, “I’m twenty-one.”

 

“No. Because I’m just about to turn nineteen, which means you’re almost twenty,” Lance said patiently. “You were gone for a few weeks, max.”

 

“Lance, _I spent two years on the back of a space whale._ ” Keith rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t lie about this. The Olkari doctors confirmed it.”

 

Lance nearly broke his feet dropping the box, and possibly actually broke whatever was inside it. _“Holy shit, you’re twenty-one years old? What the actual fuck, Keith?”_

 

“ _Right?”_ Keith agreed fervently, appearing to suddenly forget what they were talking about originally. “I don’t feel it, but I do at the same time?”

 

“How did you even … I mean, how different do you feel? Were there other side affects from that time thing? Did you get tested for radiation or whatever?” Lance’s brain spat out crazy, half-formed theories. “Does it still affect you? Will you be aging quicker now, or slower, or …?” Keith was shaking his head, which had Lance relaxing minutely, though a soft noise of distress escaped him. “That seems so unfair, man. Two years catching up with your mom isn’t so bad, I guess, but I still feel like you got cheated out of something.”

 

“I wasn’t unconscious for that time. I got to live all of it, experience new things … Unlike Shiro …” Keith’s voice faded away, and his eyes narrowed.

 

Lance hadn’t been able to control the flinch when Keith had mentioned Shiro and what _he_ had lost. (Too much. _Too fucking much._ )

 

Keith studied him, and then, the _bastard_ asked, “You … you saw Shiro, inside of the Black Lion.”

 

“I did,” Lance said curtly.

 

“Shiro says it’s not your fault. Look, even _I_ had trouble holding onto the connection, and I’m closer to Shiro than you, _and_ I’m a Black Paladin … There’s no way you could’ve stayed there long enough to hear him explain.” Keith seemed vaguely incensed by Lance’s guilt, as if it was just so _stupid_ and _pointless._

 

When Keith laid it out logically like that, it did feel a bit stupid and pointless. But it didn’t change how he felt about the whole horrifying situation. 

 

“Right, except, in the end, you did your big damn hero thing and saved the day.” Lance wasn’t (too) envious; honestly, it had more to do with what Lance had _failed to do,_ and nearly nothing to do with how Keith had succeeded instead. If Lance had been better, Shiro would have been spared sooner. And Keith … Keith had been beaten all to hell when he’d shown up again with Not-Shiro …

 

“How close,” Lance began cautiously, “was it?”

 

Keith let out a high-pitched _huh_ of confusion. “I swear, is this verbal gymnastic crap on purpose—”

 

“When you were there … with the clones, is what I’m asking. Beyond what you already told us.”

 

Lance had hated every second of _that_ debriefing. Keith had been pretty dry and flat with his descriptions, but Lance’s vivid imagination had filled in the gaps. Keith, for however thorough he’d been with the intel, hadn’t actually spoken much about _himself._

 

Lance still had visions of the Naxzela Incident, too — he hadn’t said much after that, as Allura had given Keith the lecture to end all lectures once he’d made it back onto the Castle. Matt had been the one to spill the beans on Keith’s sacrificial play, and no one, even the Not-Shiro, had been okay with that piece of news. Allura had done the bulk of the yelling, but afterwards there had been hugs and tears. Lance had limited himself to grabbing Keith’s shoulders tightly and saying with absolutely _zero_ humour in his voice, " _You either trust us to make it out of a bad situation, or you come and get us. You can’t do either of those if you’re dead, you stupid mullet-headed alien bastard."_

 

“How close was it between you and him? Did he … nearly win?” How close were they to losing two Black Paladins in one fell swoop? How colossal would Lance’s failure have been?

 

Lance wallowed in his guilt, in his shivering, but he didn’t miss how Keith’s eyes grew distant again, and that dragged him out of his self-hating stupor enough to reach over carefully. “Keith?” He dropped his hand at the last second, but then Keith was there, snatching his forearm in a too-tight grip. Lance didn’t flinch this time, nor did he try to pull away. He just watched and waited.

 

“If I tell you something, will you tell me at least one reason why you’re out here all the time, instead of with us?” Keith licked his lips nervously, his other hand twitching at his side now.

 

One of his many faults was a curious streak a mile wide, and so Lance nodded, caught up in the intensity of Keith’s gaze. “Okay.”

 

Keith led him out of the warehouse. Lance called out to Edrina as they passed by her, “Just taking a short break!”

 

“You should’ve taken one vargas ago!” she hollered back. “Take as long as you need!”

 

Olkarion was mostly forest, and they quickly reached a nearby tree line. Keith took a few steps into the woods and leaned back against a massive trunk. He seemed to realize a moment later that he still had a firm grip on Lance’s arm, and let go, apologizing quickly.

 

“I … part of the reason I wasn’t totally destroyed by that clone was because I tapped into my Galra genes, somehow. I just had a burst of extra strength.” Keith seemed both embarrassed and exhausted. “It didn’t matter. The Black Lion saved us in the end because I’d … let go.”

 

There was a lengthy silent moment during which Lance’s brain frantically tried to comprehend first the bit about tapping into freaky alien DNA, before he moved quickly onto the more terrifying words. “You’d … let go? Given up?” _Again,_ he didn’t say out loud.

 

A split second of hesitation, and Keith began to explain, haltingly but in far more detail compared to the debriefing, what _exactly_ had happened in the fight between him and the clone. Lance hadn’t been prepared for that much violence. Or for the horror that was what Not-Shiro had  _said to Keith, fuck._ The only consolation was that Keith seemed to completely dismiss any of the poison spat his way. However, it didn’t change the fact that he’d reached a point in that vile mess where he’d just had nothing left to give, no other options, it seemed, other than falling right back to the sacrifice play, except this one seemed to be even worse …

 

There had been nothing to be gained from it. Just an _end._

 

“Keith.” Lance stopped. He didn’t want to say just  _anything._ He wanted to say _the right thing._ It took him a solid minute to gather his thoughts into something sort of cohesive and hopefully not harmful. “Keith, not that I’m ungrateful that you did save … Shiro. I mean, saved a body for him, and … Like, Allura’s confirmed the witch has no hold on _our_ Shiro, but at that moment? He wasn’t Shiro. You could’ve let him go and saved yourself.”

 

“No, I couldn’t have.” Immediate, uncompromising, and harsh. Keith breathed in deeply, clearly trying to find his calm. “Sorry. But you know that he’s my only family … Fine, not anymore, but Krolia, my mom — that’s different. Complicated. Shiro has never once made me feel abandoned, not by choice, and he stuck by me even when I did everything I could to make him leave me alone … There was no other option, Lance. There never will be when it’s him.”

 

What the hell could Lance offer up in response? Keith didn’t look at all distressed when he said that. It made Lance feel ill, this idea that Keith had decided there wasn’t anything else to be done but to be lost along with Shiro.

 

“Um, Keith,” Lance said in a whisper, not quite knowing why. “I am going to hug you now. Is that cool?”

 

Keith startled, but he gave a small, disbelieving little nod. Lance stepped in close and wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders. Keith gave in far more quickly than Lance had expected — his arms went around Lance’s back so easily. They stood there, together, breathing in tandem, for a long while.

 

When Keith pulled back, he looked distinctly at peace. He let his arms drop and then he raised one hand to press a finger lightly into Lance’s chest. “We made a deal. You need to tell me something now.”

 

Lance had nothing that could compare, that felt even close to worthy. He blurted out the first thing that popped into his head. “I’m pretty sure that I fell in love with Allura, but she’s getting over Lotor now, and I don’t want to mess with that, like not even a little bit.”

 

Keith didn’t seem all that impressed, but he schooled his expression rapidly. Not fast enough for Lance to miss it, but he appreciated that Keith didn’t immediately call him an idiot.

 

“It’s just that …” Lance huffed out a humourless laugh. “It’s just that I’ve been trying, you know? Not just _for_ her, but more like, she’s shown me the value of being a better person. So I’m trying to be that, and that’s gonna still be a thing, whether or not Allura and me are a thing.”

 

“That’s really mature of you,” Keith said, sounding mildly surprised. Then he winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it came out. Whenever we’re on mission, you’ve never let anything personal seriously get in the way. Especially back when I was showing off how crap of a leader I—”

 

“Hey, watch it, you were actually pretty awesome once you got it down — and it’s clear now that you _really_ got it down.” Lance grinned. “I’m glad I get a chance to be your right hand again. Even if I still want to knock you down a peg every once in a while.”

 

“There’s a decent training arena here.” Keith raised an eyebrow. “Any time, Lance. You just gotta be ready for a smack down.”

 

Lance wanted to laugh, but instead he felt himself cringing when he realized it wouldn’t be the training room he remembered — the place where he’d first learned how to fight like a Paladin. “Man, I … Damn, that Castle wasn’t the same as being back on Earth, but …”

 

Keith inhaled sharply. “Yeah, no. I get it.”

 

They were both quiet for a few minutes.

 

Lance, for the sake of not leaving them on a downer note, said tentatively, “I … I was training with a bit of help from Allura, but once she and Lotor started working together, that stopped. I don’t want to ask her for help again because … Yeah. We’re friends and all, but I think I need time to get over her. Do you think, maybe —”

 

“Yeah,” Keith agreed without a moment’s hesitation. “Yeah, I’ll never say no to more training.”

 

“Thanks, man.” Lance was truly grateful. It was yet another thing he could do that wouldn’t allow him to think too much — that would be purely physical. “The sword is a lot trickier than I thought it would be, and I’ve gotten the hang of some stuff Allura taught me, but—”

 

Keith stopped him with a raised hand, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about? Since when do you have a sword?”

 

“Oh.” Lance had his bayard tucked in at the small of his back, so he took it out quickly — with a bit of concentration, it transformed into the Altean broad sword.

 

Keith stared, his mouth parted soundlessly. He closed it, swallowed, and said, “Right, I’m gonna ask again — _since when do you have a sword?”_

 

Lance squinted as he stared off into the distance, trying to calculate how much time had passed. “I don’t know? Maybe a couple of months after you left for the Blades?” He did think it was one of the _coolest_ things that had come out of the last few chaotic months — the sword didn’t feel quite so natural in his hands yet, not like his various medium to long range guns did, but there was no denying the _rightness,_ since the bayard wouldn’t have taken on that form otherwise. He retracted the blade and tucked the bayard into the back of his pants again.

 

Keith seemed to be caught between several conflicting emotions. Lance wasn’t too great at reading Keith in general, let alone now that he was more Blade than Paladin, and a whole _two years older, holy quiznak._

 

“That’s … awesome, Lance,” Keith said after a long, awkward pair of minutes. “I’d like to see what you can do with it. The sword. Does Allura know you need more help?”

 

“Dude, I just said I don’t wanna ask her. I need time to …” Lance waved both hands through the air in front of him. “To get over it.”

 

“Okay.” Keith narrowed his eyes. “But this isn’t the only thing that’s bothering you.”

 

No, it wasn’t, and now he had the added concern for Keith and his sorry mental state … Lance laughed self-deprecatingly, grinning up at the sky. “Man, do any of us ever have only _one_ problem. Like, _ever?_ I told you my one thing, and …. thanks, for sharing yours. But let’s cut the talking for now. We’ve got a crapton of crates to move, and I promised Edrina that I’d clear at least one corner of that warehouse by sundown. C’mon.”

 

He didn’t expect Keith to stick by him for the rest of the backbreaking labour, but he did. They worked alongside one another for hours, and Edrina let out an impressed whistle when she saw their progress. Keith and Lance hadn’t spoken outside of muttered directions and work-relevant questions. Keith seemed tapped out for the day, only giving Lance a small wave when they split up upon arrival at their temporary home. The older ( _two years, what the hell)_ Paladin headed down the hall towards Shiro’s room, and Lance watched him enter before turning on his heel towards his small corner bedroom.

 

These talks were getting strange (and heavy), but Lance felt _lighter_ today than he had in a weeks, even with his hard earned aches and pains.

 

And now he had another task to do, one that involved a touch of Paladin courage and determination — he had to talk with Shiro.

 

******

 

“I just think maybe you need to talk to him,” Keith told the princess, sitting with his legs crossed and Aldrin splayed across his lap.

 

The cosmic wolf had been spending most of his time out in the woods, insanely happy with the new world, new scents, and new creatures to chase around. He only popped in on Keith when he was bored (which wasn’t often), and late at night to sleep. Right then, Aldrin yawned, stretching his back legs out before settling again. Keith buried a hand in his fur without thinking, feeling the familiar tingle along his skin from the static energy Aldrin exuded.

 

It was early in the morning; Allura pretty much only had free time either right before breakfast, or right before bed — Keith had knocked on her door as soon as the sun had been up. She’d not only been awake, but already freshly showered and dressed.

 

Allura frowned, the mice in the process of braiding her hair. “But what am I asking him about?”

 

Keith wasn’t about to betray Lance’s confidence, but he genuinely thought this could help — maybe she could give Lance closure if they just _talked._

 

“I don’t know, what kinds of things have been bothering him? What has he been complaining about?” Keith asked, hoping Allura might have some insight. They all practically lived in each other’s pockets on that Castle, but they'd also had their own comfort zones. Lance hung off of Hunk’s shoulders, joked with Pidge, and pestered Allura  …

 

At least now Keith understood why that last one wasn’t happening anymore. He replayed Lance’s wistful, vaguely hurt tones as he expressed his feelings for the princess. Keith couldn’t really relate, having never had a serious crush on anyone, let alone _falling in love._ But wanting to be close to someone, while knowing it was impossible — _t_ _hat_ he could understand.

 

“Boredom, mostly,” Allura said dryly. “He’s found ways to occupy himself here, which is lovely …” She chewed on her lower lip. Quite suddenly, she was bursting upright, sending a couple of the smaller mice flying. “Oh, I wonder …” Her hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide. “How could I have been _so insensitive!”_

 

“What?” Keith asked, hoping he wouldn’t have to lie to the princess about Lance’s feelings.

 

“We were helping at a Galra outpost — a radiation shield destroyed by Sendak, a whole planet at risk. There was a hitch in the plan. One of the plates broke apart as we were fixing it, and Lance, he knocked me out of the way of the explosive shock, took it _full_ on …” Allura swallowed. “He … died.”

 

A spasm of pain in his chest, a sudden dryness in his mouth. “ _What?”_

 

“Well, his heart, it had stopped,” Allura rushed to say. “So he wasn’t entirely lost. I can’t defy death, but with enough quintessence, and if the person has even the smallest bit of life left in them, of their own quintessence, I can summon them back. My father’s alchemy taught—”

 

“ _Allura. Lance died,”_ Keith rasped. “How did no one …”

 

“We didn’t mention it,” Allura said with a miserable look on her face. “Lance knew that I saved him, but I didn’t think even he realized … He seemed fine afterwards, so I didn’t push. But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps he did know that death had been imminent.”

 

They’d had some close calls (some very, _very_ close calls), but aside from the utter insanity that was Shiro’s situation, no one else had ever been as close to death as Lance had been — twice now, if they included the explosion (which Keith absolutely did). Even Keith, for all his risky ( _reckless,_ Shiro would say) decisions, had never … Lance’s heart had stopped. If Allura hadn’t been there, or if she hadn’t gotten to him in time …

 

Keith stood up abruptly. “I need to go to talk to him.”

 

“Perhaps I should—”

 

“No, wait,” Keith interrupted, and then grimaced at himself. “Just, I think you should speak to Lance alone? Gimmie a tic to … figure this out.”

 

Allura nodded sadly, her arms crossed as though she were hugging herself. The mice scurried about her shoulders, trying to comfort her with whiskered kisses and tiny pats on her cheeks.

 

Keith wanted to talk to Lance right _now,_ but first he had to wait for his heart to settle — for whatever reason, he couldn’t stop the nervous thrumming in his veins, in his mind. Too many close calls, for too many people Keith cared about, because Shiro wasn’t his only family now …

 

And _that_ little revelation had him stumbling mid-step.

 

******

 

Lance took a deep breath. Then another.

 

After the third, he pushed open the door to Shiro’s room.

 

Whatever he’d been about to say was lost — Shiro was sitting up, but he was holding his head, obviously in pain. That was a thing the _clone_ had done right before …

 

“Lance,” Shiro gasped out. “It’s, it’s fine. I promise.”

 

“Do I need to get someone?” Lance asked, his heart pounding.

 

“No. Not yet. We might need Allura, eventually.” He sucked in several large breaths. His eyes were clear when they finally focused on Lance. “I’ve missed having you around.”

 

“Sure,” Lance said easily. “I’m definitely the kind of someone you miss. But, um, Shiro …”

 

After several moments of hesitating, Lance decided _to hell with it_ for the second time in as many days. “Dude, it’s terrifying to see you like this. I can get Allura right now if you think Haggar has some kind of hold, or if you think there’s some clone bits that …”

 

“He’s not here anymore,” Shiro told Lance bluntly, and with some degree of … sadness? He lifted his head, and he looked so much like _Shiro, their Shiro._ He sounded softer than the clone had, older, and full of so much guilt. “I know you have a lot on your plate. But if I don’t tell you, I think you might start picturing the worst, and the last thing I want is to cause you more pain.”

 

Lance took one faltering step into the room so the door could slide shut. He coughed a little before speaking, not moving to sit by the bed. “Okay.”

 

“The clone … I’ve named him Kuron, just to differentiate between the two of us …” Shiro sighed. “He’s not here, with me.” He tapped the left side of his grey-haired head. “But he’s still _connected_ to me. It’s like … We’ve switched places.”

 

“So … he’s inside Black?” Lance said, feeling only marginally better. “That’s … not good.”

 

“Actually, it’s not bad,” Shiro corrected. “Haggar has no control over either of us anymore. That connection has been completely severed. But he has nowhere to go, really. Unless we can find him … a body.” He paused here, and then he gazed at Lance imploringly. “I’ve been reaching out to him, while I’ve been asleep. It’s easiest then. He’s, he feels so _young._ And so lost. He sees himself as _me,_ but also _not,_ not anymore. Without Haggar’s poison in his mind, he loves all of you, and he’s driving himself insane with what he nearly did, to Keith especially. I think he deserves another chance.”

 

Lance reeled back, falling against the door. Shiro, despite his now silver head of hair, looked fairly young himself — desperate to be listened to and for his words to be accepted.

 

Lance would never be able to let go of the pain _he_ caused Shiro. And even though the idea of the clone out and about in a body of its own filled him with unease, he had to be in Shiro’s corner. Because he trusted Shiro, absolutely. Moreover, Shiro deserved anything and everything to go his way from now because the universe had done nothing but screw with him since Kerberos.

 

“All right,” Lance said gently. “I’ll help you talk to Allura, if you think that would help.”

 

“I think it will. You and the princess are closer than she and I used to be,” Shiro said with a small, wistful smile. “Your opinion is valuable to her.”

 

Well, Lance wasn’t even going to start with that right now. His heart had enough to deal with today. He decided to deal with _some_ of the strain within his chest, as he finally ventured close enough to sit by Shiro’s bedside, taking in a deep breath of his own before saying, “I, um, actually came here for a specific reason.”

 

“Lance, please don’t apologize to me again,” Shiro interrupted, one of his hands reaching out to grasp Lance’s shoulder. “There was nothing you could’ve done, and I am so sorry that I put that burden on you.”

 

Lance shook his head, unable to speak about that, not yet. He tried to smile, though he didn’t think Shiro bought it.

 

“This isn’t about me, it’s about Keith.” Lance fought to hold Shiro's suddenly intense gaze. “Because, man, Keith, he … I think he’s still hurting. And I think it’s pretty terrifying how far he’s willing to go for you.” Lance was treading on thin ice here. He’d promised not to say anything, but if Keith’s well-being was at stake, like _hell_ Lance was going to stand by and watch. Not again. Not ever again.

 

Shiro sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing. “I know. I’ve tried to tell him that he needs to prioritize himself, especially _when I’m ordering him on the battlefield,_ but … Keith is his own commander.”

 

Lance felt a bit like the wind had been taken out of his sails. “So you have an idea of what he did, when he was fighting the clone? Did … Kuron tell you?”

 

“Little bit of both. And remember, I also have some of Kuron’s memories.”

 

“Do you know about … Naxzela?”

 

“I do.” Shiro’s jaw clenched momentarily. “I tried to talk to him about it, though it was essentially a repeat of everything Allura said. Keith didn’t seem all that receptive …” Shiro offered up a dry laugh. “Probably because he knows I’ve had a few bad moments in the past. The hypocrisy is a little hard to swallow.”

 

“You were as reckless as Keith?” Lance asked skeptically.

 

Shiro had been _the_ model pilot. He’d been the face of the Garrison, the person everyone strived to be. If he reached far back into his own memories, Lance dimly recalled Shiro being scolded _once,_ after a flight demonstration where he’d pulled out of a dive _less than three metres from the ground._ It had been _awesome._ The scolding that followed hadn’t even seemed too serious — the guy doing the berating had been the same rank as Shiro, and he’d called him _a brilliant but damn stubborn fool._ Lance had been offended on Shiro’s behalf, but Shiro had just laughed it off and dragged this guy down the hall. _Adam,_ that was it, _Adam …_ Lance couldn’t remember his last name. He remembered Pidge and Hunk raving about his engineering feats, but Lance had tuned many of those rants out at the time.

 

“No, not exactly reckless. The risks I took were always calculated. But I didn’t really pay attention to the effect my decisions had on others.” Shiro seemed to be touching on something deeply painful — Lance reached out automatically, desperate to soothe the ache, but he wasn’t sure how to help, his hand falling limply onto the sheets of Shiro’s bed. Shiro smiled at him then, bittersweet but slightly improved. “And I had a bad habit of ignoring speed limits out on the road. I wasn’t without fault. I’m still not. All of that gives me the experience to back up what I tried to tell Keith about his sacrifice play into that shield. As for the clone thing … That doesn’t feel quite the same as Naxzela.”

 

“Yeah, I had the same thought.” Lance heaved out a slow breath; he paid close attention to Shiro, but the man seemed far more relaxed than he had just a moment ago. Lance didn’t have any clue how to ask about that brief flare of pain, so he focused on the reason why he’d started this conversation. “Keith is an _all or nothing_ person, I get that, I just wish …”

 

“I know, Lance. I’ve been having these kinds of fights with Keith since he was twelve years old. But maybe if you’re telling him, he’ll _finally_ listen.”

 

“Me? You think Keith will listen to _me?”_ Lance couldn’t control how high that last word came out.

 

“Why is that so surprising? You and him were a great team when Keith was in the Black Lion. Keith even told me as much.” Shiro grinned. “No one gets under Keith’s skin the way you have. And you should have that talk as soon as possible.”

 

As if psychically summoned, Keith was there; Lance didn’t have time to process Shiro’s words or the undercurrent that made Lance blink and feel both confused and a little terrified. Keith stood in the doorway, staring at the two of them with that inscrutable gaze of his.

 

“Lance, do you think we could have a talk?” Keith eyed Shiro with suspicion, the kind of suspicion that Lance had often cast towards his older siblings when he’d been _damn sure_ one of them had just been snooping in his room.

 

“It can’t be long, dude, I’ve got to clear more of that warehouse out today.” Lance turned towards Shiro. “Will you be okay if I head out?” He would stay without question if Shiro needed him, and he tried to put as much of that sincerity in his voice and expression as he could.

 

Shiro smiled kindly at him, his eyes gleaming. “I’ll be fine, Lance. But if you see Allura, send her my way.”

 

“Wait, why?” Keith demanded, abruptly changing his tune. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Yes, what’s wrong?” That was Allura, and _holy crow,_ had everyone developed psychic powers today?

 

“Nothing’s wrong, really,” Shiro insisted. “It’s … it’s more of a complication, I would say.” He shot Lance an imploring look.

 

“Shiro has a twin!” Lance said brightly. “His name is Kuron, and he lives in the Black Lion. Unless Allura can get him out. Because that’s a thing she can do now, apparently.”

 

The next look Shiro gave Lance managed to be a mix of exasperated and grateful. Keith stepped closer to Shiro, looking far more confused than before, and Allura took a moment before she said, “Do you mean … that he’s still with you?”

 

“Not exactly." Shiro gestured towards his window. “He’s inside of Black. But he’s more together than I was. Far more aware. He would probably adjust faster if you … put him in another body.”

 

“We can’t just give him a body,” Allura exclaimed, her hands flying up above her head.

 

“He’s not a danger!” Shiro threw the sheets off himself, moving to stand. Keith objected, but Lance stepped up, allowing Shiro to use him as a support. “Allura, I swear to you, Haggar isn’t connected to either of us.”

 

“I know that — I felt nothing of her presence when I reached for you and then to … Kuron. No, I mean that a spirit is bound to a specific body, and we couldn’t just …” She looked towards Shiro worriedly. “He would need you.”

 

“Or …” Keith trailed off as everyone turned to stare at him. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment before squaring his shoulders, speaking firmly, “Or we could go back to the planet where the cloning facility was? Maybe a few pods survived the explosion, landed on the planet surface. They, the bodies weren’t _activated,_ so maybe they’re empty? And this clone could live in one of them?”

 

As they all considered this (insane) plan, Matt strolled in, stumbled to a halt, and stared at everyone in the room. “O-kay, I could come back later?”

 

“No, stay,” Shiro said, and Matt began to walk further inside. “We’re having a discussion about where to dump my clone’s soul. You might as well hear it.”

 

Matt froze mid-step. “Wait, _what clone?_ I thought you were here, and he was gone?”

 

“Yes and no. And his name is Kuron,” Lance supplied. He was getting used to this concept. It freaked him out, actually, how _used to it_ he already was — but another Shiro couldn’t be a bad thing, right? “He’s currently chilling in the Black Lion, like Shiro was.”

 

“And you want him out?” Matt took a second to process. “Are you sure he’s in the Black Lion, Shiro? And are you sure about him not being connected to the witch?”

 

“The princess can confirm all of it.” Shiro looked towards Allura.

 

Allura didn’t appear one hundred percent convinced about doing so; Lance could completely understand why. However, he’d officially planted his flag in Shiro’s camp, so he was going to help the man, if only for Shiro’s peace of mind.

 

“Allura, if Kuron is without Haggar’s influence — if he’s just a man, with Shiro’s memories and feelings, then basically he’s a good person who needs our help.” Lance glanced towards Matt. “You were here with us for a while, you know that Kuron was okay. I wasn’t cool with some of his decisions, but I’m willing to chalk that up to some bad creepy witch magic, and also …” Lance trailed off, his mind whirring rapidly. “Maybe also inexperience? He had some rough edges, and I don’t think he had all of Shiro’s instincts? In other words, he wasn’t actually a full blown hero … But I think he wanted to be, just like ...” Lance bit his tongue on the self-deprecating end of that sentence. This wasn't about him.

 

 _I want to be a Paladin,_ Kuron had insisted stubbornly, as they played Monsters & Mana. The memory now ached, and Lance was suddenly _furious_ at Haggar for the damage she’d done to _both_ Shiro and Kuron.

 

“If I’m a full blown hero, then so are all of you,” Shiro said gently but brooking no argument, causing Lance to flush with embarrassment. “And you’re right about Kuron. He actually didn’t have _all_ of my memories. I figured that out a couple of days ago while we were … talking.” His mouth twisted then, another flash of that _pain, wow,_ Lance _hated_ to see that in Shiro. He stood right by him, unwilling to budge, even as Keith moved in closer, holding Shiro up on his armless side.

 

Keith’s arm brushed Lance’s, and Lance shot him a quick, commiserating smile, which Keith returned with only a slight twitch of his lips; Lance felt the honesty in that tiny gesture, and it lit a warm glow in his chest.

 

Allura took a few more minutes for quiet contemplation before she spoke, “All right. The first thing we’ll do is confirm that Kuron is inside the Black Lion and that he’s not a danger. Once that’s been established, we will discuss a plan to … rescue him.” Allura breathed out slowly. “This may need to wait. Building the ship that will get us to Earth is the first priority, but I do agree that solving this situation may be our next most important mission.”

 

“Thank you, princess.” Shiro smiled widely at her, and then moved to walk towards his closet, carefully untangling himself from Lance and Keith. “Right. I’m going to get dressed and meet you by the Lion. Lance, maybe you and Keith should go and have that talk? Matt and Allura can help me with Kuron for now.”

 

Shiro had a glint in his eye that Lance just could not understand, but he accepted it with a nod, and grabbed Keith before he could start protesting. Keith needed to learn to let _other_ people take care of Shiro — he wasn’t the only one who loved and respected their original Black Paladin.

 

Keith didn’t fight Lance’s hold on him for a strangely extended period — not until they were outside and in one of the prettier gardens, just on the edge of the wild forest. He pulled Lance’s hand off his arm, holding it as he asked, “What the hell was Shiro talking about? What talk is about to happen?”

 

“The one where I tell you that you’re in danger,” Lance said without thinking. In fact, he was just going to let his instincts take over here. Maybe that was the best way to get across his point as swiftly and also as _sincerely_ as possible. Maybe that was exactly what Keith needed from him for this particular talk. “You’re in danger all the time, and it’s kinda stressing me the hell out.”

 

“Right, this is not clearing things up at all.” Keith inhaled a sharp breath. “Is there a situation happening here, on Olkarion? What—”

 

“Keith, man, I’m trying to say that your whole _lemme sacrifice myself before someone else does or because I think there's no other option_ is just too damn much. _Shiro_ is worried. _I’m_ worried. Allura already gave you a lecture, but I’m gonna do one better than that …” Lance took in a deep breath of his own. “I’m going to flat-out beg you to stop and think before you pull that crap again. Please. Keith, you cannot make yourself the martyr every damn time. That cannot be your instant go-to get-out-of-jail-free card. Please, _por Dios,_ stop.”

 

“I’m not trying to kill myself,” Keith bit out. “I didn’t share what happened with you as a cry for help.”

 

“Keith, that’s not what I’m saying — but you know what, yeah, maybe a little. You _matter,_ Keith. From a purely logical standpoint, you are one of our best fighters, you’re a Paladin who can pilot _two_ Lions, and you’re a Blade of Marmora. You’re part Galra, you’re a freaking ninja, and you’re valuable to this war effort.”

 

As he spoke, Lance walked over to a nearby fountain made of twisting vines and hardened clay, water sprinkling down into a pond filled with little fishes. Lance sat on the edge, staring at Keith who stood a ways from him, seemingly unmoved — but that changed as Lance kept going. “But what’s just as important is that you’re Shiro’s brother. You’re Keith Kogane, and you _suck_ at cooking, like, wow, so bad, and you have this ability to be good at anything that involves hand-eye coordination, but you are utter garbage at dancing, man, Allura has to ban you from all future balls.”

 

“Hey—”

 

“And you’re my friend. You’re Hunk and Pidge’s friend. And Allura’s. And Coran’s. Actually, you’re part of this space family in a big way. Which means that we all care about you a whole lot.” Lance swallowed against a knot forming in his throat. “If you died in some totally preventable, unnecessarily heroic maneuver, we would all die inside. There are other people who could be Paladins or Blades of Marmora, but no one can be Keith Kogane. No one but you.”

 

“Unless there’s a clone of me out there,” Keith said in a slightly wild tone, gaze frantic, with one hand twisting around his dagger hilt. His words appeared to hit him a second later, and he groaned, cringing at himself.

 

Lance laughed to the point of tears. He wiped at his eyes, choking out, “Wow, and no one can ever be as awkward as you, man, holy crow, that was amazing. I feel so much better about life now, seriously.”

 

“Lance …” Keith finally drew closer, sitting next to him on the fountain, his hand dipping into the water, swirling in a slow circle, chasing the fish away. “You actually care.”

 

“Yeah, man. I care. A lot.” He smiled, hoping Keith could see the affection in his expression — the fact that Keith had become one of his good friends was pretty surprising to him, too, but not as much as it should be. Not really. He reached over, and it was slow enough to warn Keith … But Keith didn’t need the warning, apparently, because he not only let Lance hug him, he actually leaned into it first. Lance smothered an even wider smile against Keith’s shoulder. This was so damn sappy, but it felt _good._ Man, how annoying was it that Keith was actually decent at this hugging thing?

 

Keith withdrew after a minute, and when he did, he looked serious again. Lance braced himself for another revelation — maybe the cloning thing hadn’t been a poorly timed joke?

 

“Can I tell you something now?”

 

Feeling fairly tired after all that emotional rambling, Lance gestured as a way of saying _go for it._

 

“Did you know that when you guys were on that mission, repairing that radiation shield, when you took that hit for Allura … You died?”

 

The sound of a record scratch reverberated in Lance’s ears — a wordless, internal shriek that meant _no, what the fuck._ Lance stared. His heart pounded hard enough to rattle his ribs. “I knew that Allura saved me. I knew it was almost fatal …” Dizziness blurred his vision. “But it… wasn’t almost?”

 

“Your heart stopped.” Keith had a hand on Lance’s shoulder, a solid grip to keep him upright. “Crap, you didn’t know,” Keith said with regret. “I shouldn’t have … but I had to ask you. I was thinking that maybe you were acting like this — avoiding us and the meetings — because you had trouble with the fact that you had, um, sort of died.”

 

“My heart _stopped.”_ That same organ was taking a decent shot at leaping up into his throat. Lance leaned back so far he nearly toppled into the fountain’s pond. Keith’s hand stayed on his shoulder. “Right. I’ve nearly blown up. More than once, but I guess you know which time I’m talking about. And I’ve had one or two other near misses since, but somehow … Allura can’t bring people back from the dead, right? Like, that is not a power _anyone_ has.”

 

“No, but near dead,” Keith explained as though he were expert in Altean magic, “is something she can drag you back from. She told me that as long as there is a spark of life, she could do something with it.”

 

“Uh huh.” Lance stared up at the sky for an indeterminate time. Until his pulse withdrew back down into his chest cavity, steady and true. Until the air he inhaled actually felt like it was reaching his lungs. Until his mind used all its senses to confirm, _yes, alive, it’s fine, we live._ “Right. Got it. I’m alive, so that’s … a moot point now, I guess.”

 

“So that wasn’t another thing that’s kept you away from us?” Keith seemed baffled. “Lance, could you just say what’s going on? Seriously, the one time I actually _want_ you to blab away …”

 

Lance didn’t push Keith into the fountain, but he totally thought about it.

 

“I … I don’t have anything real to do, I guess.” Lance shrugged, trying to play it off as cool as possible. “Listen, what can I do right now, really? Or ever, when we’re not on a mission? I’m not an engineering expert, or techno wiz. I’m not magical or academically inclined. I can train, I can work out, but that isn’t a whole day, at least not for me …” Lance pointed towards the city. “Out there, I can _do_ stuff. Be useful. Otherwise it’s just wallowing about the princess and about how, aside from being able to pilot Red and Blue, I’m just not worth much to the team.”

 

“Bullshit,” Keith said instantly. “You’re Hunk and Pidge’s best friend. You’re way better at diplomacy than any of us, except Allura. You can actually charm people when you’re not, you know, being over-the-top with the flirting. You’re the best sharpshooter. You have a _sword now._ You …” Keith stopped, and Lance could have sworn there was the faintest pink flush along his cheeks. “This doesn’t make any sense — you have the biggest ego on the team.”

 

“Yeah, well, add being a decent liar to my list of qualities,” Lance said with a sarcastic little smile. “Okay, maybe not a totally decent liar, because I totally am the best sharpshooter, and I can totally work the charm on anyone, except the person I want most." Lance grimaced, shaking his head to dispel those last few words. He stared at Keith, shrugging as he huffed tiredly. "Doesn’t change the fact that I have nothing real to contribute when we’re not on mission. It’s not a good feeling, okay? I’ve always had a thing about being … not needed.”

 

They sat in silence again.

 

Keith stood up. “Let’s find you a thing, then.”

 

“What — Keith, this isn’t some pity project, it just … _is._ ”

 

“Well, it doesn’t have to be what it _is._ ” Keith rolled his shoulders and then offered Lance a hand. “Let’s start with some more training. I know you’re pretty flexible, especially in the air, which means there are some moves you could probably pull off better than I can—”

 

“How do you know about … _Did you see the Voltron show?”_

 

There was a smirk and an arched eyebrow. “Why? Are you embarrassed by the whole _Loverboy Lance_ thing? Because you should be. It was ridiculous. Pidge and Hunk might’ve been even worse, but not by much. And Shiro … Kuron had it bad. But Lance … You were actually enjoying that. Way too much.”

 

Keith’s smirk had morphed into a genuine smile, his entire face flushed with good humour. Lance grinned back, accepting the hand up. “When else was I gonna get to show off my aerial silk skills?”

 

“Is that what that was?” Keith’s lips pursed as he pulled Lance to his feet. “I feel like we could adapt that for combat. I don’t know how, but it would definitely catch the Galra by surprise. And you’re more bendy than I thought, so we could probably get you into some tight spots.”

 

He seemed to realize what he’d said a split second after he’d said it — too late, because Lance was already holding his stomach, bending over and laughing uproariously.

 

“Keith, if I didn’t know any better, I swear …” Lance couldn’t stop, it was just _too much._ How had he gone so long without appreciating Keith’s sense of humour? Or his profoundly adorable social awkwardness? This was all _too good._ “Ah, I’m gonna just have to walk around recording you from now. These moments must be preserved for when they make the documentary of our noble pursuits. They’ll add a touch of humanity to it all.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, but he also looped an arm around Lance’s shoulders. “You think my stupid lines are going to out number yours? Fat chance, Mr. The Hunter Becomes the Hunted.”

 

“You’re a real jerk,” Lance said happily. “I’ve missed having you around, buddy.”

 

Keith pressed in a little closer, his arm tightening. “Yeah. Me too.” 

 

There was quiet as they walked back together, heading towards the new Lion hanger. 

 

Then Pidge and Hunk were suddenly up in their faces, Pidge jabbering about _Shiro’s clone has a name and he might have a body, did you hear? What do you mean you already knew, Lance!_ And Hunk rambling that _Allura actually spoke to the clone — and let him speak to us through her mouth, which was all kinds of creepy._

 

Lance didn’t believe that all their problems were solved, and it was all too likely that there were more unforeseeable issues on the horizon. But he had Keith’s arm around his shoulders, the certainty that Keith had actually _heard and absorbed_ what Lance had to say, and he had Keith’s promise to help Lance out of his own dark spiral.

 

“Guys, _another Shiro,_ ” Lance said emphatically. “All I’m hearing is awesomeness. We could have another major badass on our side. Where is the problem?”

 

Hunk looked to be gearing up for a rant, but he stopped, cocking his head at Lance and Keith. “Wait, something's different …”

 

“Nothing’s different, not really.” Lance’s tone was flippant, but he smiled genuinely. “Except that maybe I’ll be popping in on meetings more. Uh, sort of been neglecting my Paladin duties, and that’s not a thing that should keep happening.”

 

“No, it’s not,” Pidge agreed, her own smile slow to form, but wide once it did. “Nice of you to wake up and smell the food goo, Lance.”

 

“Thanks, Keith,” Hunk said with a wink.

 

“Don’t thank me.” Keith didn’t drop his arm. Lance didn’t know what to do with this, other than to smile fondly at the mullet-headed guy. “I’m not sure I’m doing anyone any favours convincing Lance to come back.”

 

“Hey now,” Lance instantly complained. “I am a joy to all who know me. Bask in my presence.”

 

“Oh goodie, Lance _is_ back,” Pidge said, sighing, but she also didn’t stop smiling. “Nice work, Keith.”

 

By the time they reached the Lion hanger, Allura was chattering excitedly to Shiro and Matt, her eyes alight. Coran was there, his brow furrowed, but he seemed to be agreeing with whatever she was saying.

 

“We’re going to retrieve a body for Kuron.” Allura seemed so happy, and Lance just couldn’t quite understand her sudden delight with this whole situation until she added, “There’s something so profoundly wonderful about taking something that Haggar twisted into evil and unravelling it for the good. We’ve all been busy with such technically or physically demanding work, none of it feeling of direct benefit to anyone … Who would like to join me on a quest to _save_ a soul?”

 

“Hey, that sounds like a good time to me,” Lance agreed without missing a beat. “Count me in.”

 

“Ryner and Matt can handle the ship-building for a few days without us,” Pidge said, nudging Hunk.

 

“I guess you’ll have to count me out,” Shiro said reluctantly. “No way I can pilot much of anything. I’m already feeling like I’m about to drop … Keith, you should —”

 

“Yeah, I can do it.” Keith didn’t look altogether happy about leaving Shiro behind, but then Matt was there, wrapping Shiro’s arm around his shoulders to keep him upright.

 

“I got Shiro-watching duty, don’t worry.” He dipped his head, an odd little salute with his free hand following. “Kick ass, go to space, represent the human race …” Matt flicked his eyes towards Keith and Allura, winking. “Well, sort of. Mostly.”

 

“Matt, you are the actual worst.” Pidge groaned. “Let’s leave before he whips out another ancient reference.”

 

Lance didn’t think he would ever feel totally useful when he wasn’t in one of his Lions, out there amongst the stars, to save people, to fight the Galra Empire, to throw himself headfirst into whatever danger … But this family, this was worth sticking around for — worth acquiring new skills and finding a new purpose.

 

Keith seemed to be getting that, too. In fact, Keith was grinning at Lance, no-holds-barred affection in his eyes. Lance was pretty good with learning how to cope alongside this mullet. In fact, they were better together than they were apart … And that was something to consider on their way to saving the life of someone who Lance was determined to make a part of their family as well. The more, the more merrier — the more merrily dysfunctional and absolutely awesome they would be.

 

******

 

Kuron didn’t know what to say to them. To any of them. Even Shiro, who had been a steady presence as he lost his mind to grief. Even Shiro, who was essentially _him._

 

When he first opened his eyes, it was to the sight of everyone whom Haggar had tried to destroy — by using him as the weapon … His first instinct was to close his eyes again.

 

“Hey, none of that, dude.”

 

Lance. Lance was too damn nice for his own good. Kuron hated that. He hated how Lance had tried to help — help the person he thought was Shiro. Kuron had reached out once, and Lance had offered comfort. It had been nice. But it hadn’t been enough because Haggar had a grip so tight — a clawed hand choking his mind from afar, and he’d realized it too late. But also, Lance had grated on him because it felt like Lance had been trying to _take his position away,_ act like Kuron (Shiro) wasn’t making the right calls, and he couldn’t abide it. Kuron would hate himself for those thoughts for a long, long time.

 

He opened his eyes again, and if seeing Lance hurt, seeing _Keith_ was a whole other world of pain. He must’ve made some kind of sound because Keith instinctually reached out for him, but Kuron fended him off … with two hands.

 

Two human hands.

 

Allura smiled, and Kuron didn’t deserve any of this — not when _Shiro couldn’t have this_.

 

The princess grasped one of his hands. “We found a cloned body that hadn’t been prepared yet for implantation. Empty, unscarred, and yours. You are a blank canvas, Kuron. This is now your life, and you can do with it what you will. But we were hoping you would stay with us.”

 

“Yeah, having you around is like having another Shiro, just …” Hunk scratched his head beneath his orange hairband. “You’re going to probably find you’re good at similar things, but maybe not?”

 

“I …” Kuron coughed, his new voice hoarse, his  _new body_ shifting. His  _new brain_ realizing he was half-reclined on a hospital bed, in a room with a huge window, sunlight streaming in over the heads of his … of Shiro’s family. “I don’t think you’ve all thought this through.”

 

“We have.” Shiro was sitting on a chair by the bed, his silver hair so strange … Probably about as strange as Kuron’s own entirely raven-haired head. “Trust me, you’ve been out for a few days. We’ve had time to discuss this thoroughly. Allura is sure you’re free of Haggar. I’m sure you’re a good person. We all want you here.”

 

“You guys sound kind of different from each other,” Matt said thoughtfully, and Kuron hadn’t even seen him amongst the small crowd until that second. “It’s subtle, but it’s there. Huh.”

 

Chattering broke out between them about the dissimilarities between himself and Shiro, and maybe he should be used to this level of noise, but no, not right now. Sensory overload. His mind whirled between the numbing relief of being _out and alive,_ and the overwhelming guilt of _not deserving this, not deserving them._

 

“You guys may want to leave for a bit,” Shiro suggested, barely needing to raise his voice to be heard.

 

Without much protesting, everyone followed his suggestion, waving at Kuron, smiling, and being so … kind. It brought tears to his eyes, and before the door had slid shut, he was sobbing.

 

Shiro let him. He had no idea how long it took him to calm down, but the sun had set, and Shiro was there, awake and waiting patiently.

 

“If you really want to leave, no one will stop you,” Shiro said after Kuron had been silent for several minutes. Shiro passed him a small cloth to blow his nose with, which he accepted. “But I think you need to stick around until we’ve finished this ship. Maybe you could come back to Earth with us. Maybe that’s where you belong.” Here, Shiro gave a self-effacing little laugh. “You might actually belong there more than I do, at this point. You certainly look the part.”

 

“I think that’s bullshit,” Kuron said, his voice thick. “And there’s someone on Earth waiting for you, and he won’t care what you look like.” Shiro jerked, looking shocked that Kuron had brought _that_ up — the thing that Shiro had worked so hard to hide and heal without anyone knowing. “Fuck, sorry. Also, why the hell am I swearing so much?”

 

“It’s a form of a release, I’d guess.” Shiro waited for Kuron to finish cleaning up his face, and when he spoke next, his own voice was heavy with unshed tears. Kuron felt simultaneously honoured and horrified by this show of weakness. “I think you’re wrong. Or I hope you are. The idea of Adam waiting all this time … I wouldn’t wish that kind of agony on him, I could never. He thinks I’m dead, more likely. He should have moved on by now. I hope he has.”

 

“You’re a fu— freaking idiot.” Kuron cleared his throat, wiping away the last of his tears — the last for the next few minutes, more likely. “Sam Holt has definitely told him that you’re alive. He would have had to, when he explained this mess to the Garrison. Even if Adam isn’t there anymore, Sam would have tracked him down to tell him something this huge. You should’ve recorded him a message, you idiot. And if Adam loves you as much you love him, he’s _waiting for you._ ”

 

Shiro seemed even more shocked by the conviction in Kuron’s voice than Kuron was for spilling so many words in one breath. He hadn’t been truly alive for more than hour — what was this disaster? He opened his mouth to issue an apology, but Shiro just held up his hand (Kuron would chop off his other arm and give it to Shiro if that were a thing. Maybe it could be? He would ask the doctors next time they saw him).

 

“I … can’t let himself believe that. Not if I want to keep myself sane, especially if we get back to Earth, and he … he has moved on, for good. I can’t ask for any more chances. I’m not sick anymore. I’ve defeated death _twice_ in truly unbelievable ways. I have Keith as my brother, and now _you …_ ” Shiro smiled when Kuron shook his head. “You are, Kuron. Genetics play only a small part in who your family is. Keith and I prove that every day.”

 

Kuron couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that pronouncement, so he just stayed silent, scratching an itch on the unblemished skin of his knee. He’d had a scar there. Shiro did. A bicycle accident when he was a kid? Maybe? No longer, wasn’t ever his in the first place — the memory or the scar. Good that one was faded and the other was gone.

 

“You could come back to Earth and retire from all of this.” Shiro stared up at the ceiling and around the room. “So could I, come to think of it. Leave it all to the people who actually have Lions.”

 

“I don’t think either of us is cut out for that. Couldn’t leave this damn fight to anyone, need to see it through to the fucking end.” Kuron exhaled, relishing the feeling of air leaving and then re-entering his lungs. He wondered about life after the war … Did he have to wait until _after?_ Could he find something worth living for now, so that he could look forward to it while they fought? Like Shiro did. (He said he didn’t want to hope for Adam, but Kuron could see it plainly in his eyes — hope was an irrepressible flutter, a tiny iron-clad will). “But … maybe we could. I could. I don’t know.”

 

“And isn’t that kind of nice?” Shiro leaned in closer, his hand resting right next to Kuron’s limp fingers. “No one to answer to. No voices or headaches creeping in. All you are … is you, and you get to figure out what that means with no constraints.”

 

“Other than this war,” Kuron said, but he wasn’t sad or bitter about that. “Which I can help with. I know how to fight.” He surprised himself, attempting to access more memories that were far fuzzier now compared to when he’d been in the Black Lion. “But I think I might no longer have your experience from the arena anymore … I think …” The relief, it was _crushing him,_ but Shiro had to understand what Kuron couldn’t quite articulate. And Shiro did — he looked _happy._ Kuron forced himself to form actual words. “I think all of it is … faded. Not mine. The only things that are sharp and here are the ones from the past year or so. The ones that are … _me._ ”

 

“Well, holy shit.” Shiro’s smile was so genuine it hurt to see. “Allura is some kind of alchemist wizard.”

 

“She is some kind of walking miracle,” Kuron corrected, and he was crying again, and laughing, and this was all _insane, but what the hell._ He was _here._

 

“I think you and me are going to be brothers, on Earth, that is,” Shiro said abruptly, still smiling. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s a better explanation than a clone. Clones are not going to fly well with any Earth authority. But, again, I’m not just saying this because we have matching DNA.” His serious tone lightened, as did his expression — a flicker of teasing. “And if we’re brothers, that means Keith is our joint responsibility.”

 

“Guess I couldn’t expect to be let off the hook for that one,” Kuron joked, because he could _joke._ “I wouldn’t want to be, actually.” Keith was a stubborn little jackass. Kuron would never forget the way Keith fought for him — even if the boy did think that Kuron was Shiro at the time. That kind of devotion left a mark. Kuron wanted Keith to be healthy and happy. Another reason to fight in this war, since Keith’s self-preservation instincts left _a lot_ to be desired. “I’m really fond of that kid.”

 

“Me, too.” Shiro laughed a little. “Next time we’re all together, keep a close eye on him and Lance. It’ll be a surprise what you notice, but a hilarious one. At least I think so — you might disagree, since we're not exactly the same.” Shiro grinned brightly at him.

 

“They’re all actually okay with this?” Kuron waved a hand at himself. He had trouble with this, still — Keith might want to steer clear. In fact, Kuron would welcome that distance. Keith deserved time to grow used to him. “I tried to kill them.” His voice cracked, and he swore beneath his breath as a few more tears spilled over.

 

Shiro kindly didn’t draw attention to his small breakdown. “You and I have been over this several dozen times. Haggar tried to kill them. You fought her. You did. You even broke through, once Keith destroyed … that arm.”

 

During that entire vile betrayal, Kuron hadn’t been much of _anything_ other than a breathless wail in the backseat of his own brain — a wretched beast that couldn’t form coherent thought, because half of his mind had been poisonous evil, shredding his sentience. But he had known enough to know _can’t hurt Keith. Can’t hurt Keith._

 

But that monster wasn’t him any longer. That Paladin wasn’t him either. But he could be a Paladin. Maybe. One day. Except that the Black Lion wasn’t in his head anymore. His breath hitched. He tried to reach out …

 

“Yeah.” Shiro knew. How he could know? They weren’t actually connected anymore … Just like him and the Black Lion. “Kuron. Breathe. Follow my voice, okay? Listen. Count.” Shiro proceeded to inhale on a count of four, and exhale for a count of six. Kuron had trouble keeping his breaths even, but even if each one was shaky, he could feel the affect the deliberate action had on him. He calmed down, though another slicing pain went through him as he considered the ramifications of no longer being a Paladin.

 

“I can’t feel the Black Lion anymore, either.” Shiro seemed to be feeling this loss as well, though he'd clearly had time to grow accustomed — it felt like a fresh wound to Kuron. But Shiro's calm acceptance was helping. “As soon as we got you into your body, the connection faded. I think it was gone long before that, actually. When Keith took over for good after Allura brought me back, all I was feeling was _you_ in the Lion. And once you were here …” He shrugged one shoulder, his eyes dropping down to the blankets on Kuron’s bed, then back up, a small but sincere smile on his face once more. “Neither of us are Paladins anymore. We’ve been retired.”

 

He could belong on Earth, or here on Olkarion, he could … fall asleep right now because _he was so damn fucking tired._

 

“Yeah, that’s exactly how I felt,” Shiro said knowingly. “Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up. Keith will be here, too. And maybe Lance. But don’t worry about that now.”

 

And Kuron didn’t need Shiro to tell him not to worry — the worries were washed back in the wave of exhaustion. He floated off with ease, the future a kaleidoscope of possibilities, an infinite variety that could be anything aching, brutal, bright, beautiful, but all of them astonishingly _his, and his alone._

 

******

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really hope anyone who has made it to the end of this fic enjoyed it! I'll try to get the epilogue up in a few days :) My thanks to anyone who has read — please feel free to come join me on [Tumblr](http://thisgirlhastales.tumblr.com/) for more writings! *hugs*


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here there are many discussions, mostly of a lighter sort (with one exception), but no worries — all these loose threads are leading towards home and happiness for all of our heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the promised shippy epilogue that got way, _way_ longer than I expected it to? Hopefully it's still enjoyable :)

******

_Epilogue: Follow These Threads Home_

******

Lance cleared his throat. Aldrin transported off Keith's lap and to Lance’s side, nuzzling his hand. As Lance bent down to fully embrace the wolf, Keith smiled, stretching his arms above his head — he'd been in the same position for too long. “Hey, Lance, what’s up?”

 

When Lance straightened up, Keith noticed that he seemed … uneasy. He had expected something like this, considering that Earth was so close now — just a week or so away.

 

They had to brace themselves for either prosecution by Garrison authorities or international courts, or even isolation and experimentation, all while attempting to prepare for the coming war … Hopefully Sam Holt had already explained to Earth’s leaders that _there was a war._ There had been many, many meetings about how best to approach this, and even with the entire Olkari fleet at their backs, along with several other allies, Keith still wasn’t sure they had enough to face the Galra Empire and win. Or to convince Earth to fight alongside them (if Sam Holt had failed to do so).

 

Sometimes, humanity could be willfully blind.

 

“Just wanted to sit and chill. You’re in the best chill spot.” Lance walked over to Keith’s pillow nest by the window, grabbing a few cushions off the couches as he approached.

 

 _Voltron’s Citadel_ was a giant flagship, built with a combination of Altean and Olkari tech — it had many of the creature comforts of the Castle, but was smaller and less efficient in certain aspects. It had taken nearly two months to design, and another five to build and test — a rush job. They couldn’t fully charge the Lions, they didn’t have access to healing pods, and the wormhole abilities were limited. But even with their stilted travel, it had only taken them six weeks to get this close to their … home.

 

Lance made a small cushion nest of his own, right next to Keith, and once he’d dropped down into it, Aldrin stretched out across both of their laps, humming contentedly. Lance leaned back against the wall, his shoulder just brushing Keith’s. The silence peacefully rested between for a time.

 

Keith turned his head just enough to study Lance. “How did your talk with Allura go? You never said …” Lance had finally found the courage to speak to Allura about his feelings a couple of days ago, but he hadn’t spoken of it at all since telling Keith he was going to do it. Keith hadn't wanted to push, but it had been weighing on Lance for so, so long, and Keith just ... wanted to be sure that everything was okay now.

 

Lance seemed to have been bracing himself as soon as Keith moved, but now he relaxed. “Oh. That. Well. Awkward. But … it helps that I made my peace with the whole thing months ago. I think I'll always love her in some way. First love and all that cliché stuff. But, she’s not the be-all-end-all of my universe. She was super cool about it, too, which was a huge upgrade from how we first met.” Lance grinned a little, tugging at one of his ears as he spoke.

 

“Good,” Keith said, glad that Lance finally had closure on that. “You seem really happy now.”

 

“Hm, maybe? I’m freaked out over a lot of stuff, but not that, not anymore,” Lance conceded. “Um, and speaking of stuff I’m freaked out about …”

 

Another lengthy pause ensued, and Keith waited patiently. The worst was the uncertainty of what they might find when they got back to Earth, and Keith could relate to whatever Lance had on his mind, he was sure. But Lance seemed fidgety, a little embarrassed even, which didn’t exactly coincide with the Lance who worried over his family … _Oh._

Keith had an idea of what this might be, and he snorted to himself. “Ah, I get it.” Lance flinched hard, his eyes huge. Keith grinned. “You’ve picked up on that, um, _tension_ between Matt and Kuron?”

 

Lance had cringed away, and then froze. His mouth dropped open. “ _What?_ No, no _freaking way._ Coño, eso no es … I mean, shit, wait. _What?”_

“Well, I don’t think they’re actually doing anything about it,” Keith speculated. “But I did get to witness the conversation Shiro had with Matt about why it wouldn’t be all that weird? Since he and Kuron are pretty different people, and Matt was stressing out about whether he’d had latent feelings for Shiro all this time … It was a mess. I walked away from it as fast as possible. Kuron’s probably going to talk to Shiro next, if Shiro doesn’t talk to him first.” Keith laughed, maybe a little evilly. “It’s actually pretty cool to have someone else Shiro can focus his big brother _I want you to do better and live up to your potential happiness_ energy on. But, yeah, I think Matt is right to freak out. But if he and Kuron do end up making something of this …” Keith shrugged, contemplating the restructuring of their close-knit group. “We’ve dealt with plenty of weird crap. Why not?”

 

Lance seemed to be reeling still, but he gathered himself up enough to nod and to say faintly, “Yeah, weird is right, but, also, yeah, why not? We’re all well-equipped at dealing with, uh, new horizons and all that …”

 

Keith stared at Lance, feeling his eyebrows furrow together. If Lance wasn’t anxious over that piece of gossip, then maybe it was something more serious? This brought Keith back around to the concerns he had about their return to Earth.

 

Except when Lance spoke next, it wasn’t about the Galra Empire, or the Garrison, or the military tribunals …

 

“So, um, I know you and Shiro have your own family stuff planned for after the whole will-they-or-won’t-they-try-and-throw-us-in-jail …”

 

“Yeah,” Keith said, confused. He stared out towards the blurry stars — they’d exhausted the wormhole crystal for today, which meant full throttle on the engines for ten hours before a break. “His grandparents, they raised him, and when he became my mentor, they were pretty cool about letting this troublemaking kid hang around their place when I was waiting on Shiro.” He, Kuron, and Shiro were also tentatively planning for meeting with Adam — but that wasn’t something he could share with Lance. Keith had made a point to _never_ mention Adam in all this time — not when Shiro acted like his partner had never existed, not when even the smallest, vaguest reference to Adam had Shiro looking like he’d just taken a gut shot.

 

“You guys gonna bring Kuron along, too?” Lance asked curiously.

 

“That’s the plan … but not on the first day.” Keith and Shiro had decided that they needed at least twenty-four hours to explain the entire Kuron situation before they brought the man over; the last thing they wanted was to give Shiro’s grandparents two separate heart attacks. Shiro had actually written out a _speech,_ and he already had his _back to Earth outfit planned,_ which involved full sleeves and gloves to conceal his new arm (courtesy of Altean and Olkari tech). “Kuron’s kind of terrified, but also excited? It’s weird. He feels _younger_ than me.”

 

Kuron was also stubbornly insisting that Shiro meet with Adam _before_ Kuron was revealed to anyone. Mostly so there would be no … accidental mix-ups.

 

Keith thought that might actually be a bit hilarious, maybe even a little deserved since Adam had left Shiro right before Kerberos … But Adam had actually said some of the things that  _Keith_ had been thinking at the time; life-long dream or not, how could Shiro take that mission, what could’ve been (and _was,_ in a way), a life- _ending_ trip, considering his circumstances, and leaving those he loved behind with no means of contacting him during such a long, risky journey … Adam had stood by Shiro through so much, through more than Keith probably knew about, up until that point. Keith found it difficult to forgive anyone who hurt Shiro, but he could understand Adam’s reasoning. And he knew that hurting Adam was almost no different than hurting his brother — Shiro loved Adam _that_ much. Even after all this time.

 

He was jerked out of his maudlin thoughts by Lance, who uttered softly, “Yeah, I see what you mean, about Kuron.” Lance said nothing else for a minute. Then, after several deep breaths, “How … how would you feel about … maybe, hanging out with me and my family, after all that drama is settled?”

 

Keith stared again at Lance. The other man’s gaze was fixed on Aldrin’s back as he stroked the fur. Keith considered the offer, and said, “Um, yeah, that’s cool with me. Why … why are you acting so weird about this?”

 

“I’m not!” Lance defended straightaway. “It’s just … you know, I wasn’t sure you would want to, even though we’re buddies now and all …” There was a strange inflection on the word _buddies_ — Lance’s breath had hitched partway through saying it.

 

“You’ve told me enough stories about your older siblings to get me curious,” Keith reminded him, watching intently as Lance kept right on staring down at the wolf. “And I’m pretty sure it would be hysterical to see you get taken down a peg or three by them.”

 

Here Lance rolled his eyes, though he _still didn’t look at Keith._ “Yeah, you can expect a ton of that …” Lance paused. “I kinda also wanted … I mean, Hunk’s going to stop by, too, so it wouldn’t be weird, right? For you to tag along. Or you could come without Hunk, that’s …”

 

“Lance.” Keith turned his whole body, disrupting Aldrin’s light doze. The wolf nipped at Keith’s hands, irritated; he turned and planted his butt between Keith’s crossed legs, his head now in Lance’s lap. “You’re not making too much sense.”

 

Lance stroked Aldrin’s ears seemingly automatically, his gaze fixed somewhere near Keith’s chest. “Fine. Um, cards on the table? I want you to meet my family. Like, a lot.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” That was actually … really nice. Why was Lance so jittery?

 

“And if I do introduce you to them,” Lance went on, rambling now, “they are going to make some comments. They can read me like a book written in size twenty font. Worse, actually, it’s like I’m an _audiobook._ So, they’re going to say stuff, and I just want you to be ready.”

 

Keith had no idea where this was going. “Ready for what?”

 

“They’re going to call you the boyfriend. They’re going to say crap about my having a crush or … all the embarrassing stuff you can think off. It’s because of all the whining I did while I was at the Garrison. Veronica _immediately_ started giving me crap about you, and then Marcos joined in … Not sure how serious they were, but as soon as they see me, after all the crying is over … The mocking will begin.”

 

Keith didn’t think he was red in the face, or at least he hoped he wasn’t. Because there was something about Lance’s tone, and about his strange phrasing … “Lance, are you saying that they’re going to read about some fictional crush on me off of you? How does that make sense?”

 

“It wouldn’t, I guess …” Lance inhaled deeply. “Unless the crush were real. Uh. Which. It is. Real.”

He could comprehend the words since Lance spoke in a language Keith understood, and he had said them clearly (albeit with a bit of stumbling). However, their _meaning_ didn’t land because Keith had never even … Except, no. Wait.

 

Lance and his sword — _there was a good thought._ One he’d maybe dwelled on long after their training sessions were over. And Lance, working out in the gym, nearly as much as Keith — also a nice thought, nice picture, and _wow, Keith._ Shiro’s cunning little grins were making _all kinds of sense now._

But there was more — more important, devastating revelations that had him tensing. Lance laughing and nudging Keith as he teased. Lance in narrow-eyed focus as he shot an enemy at four hundred metres without breaking a sweat. Lance acting as Shiro and Kuron’s defender, standing up in front of Kolivan to protect them from unnecessary interrogation. Lance insisting that Keith _mattered,_ that Lance wanted _Keith Kogane,_ the awkward guy with two-left feet, to survive this war. So that he could take him to meet his mother.

 

Keith had been quiet for too long, but Lance didn’t look panicked. In fact, he was back to being relaxed, a faint smile turning his lips up at the corners.

 

“Yeah, Shiro told me to give you some time to process,” Lance said softly, a touch teasingly. “But even if he hadn’t, I know that face. That’s the _can’t compute, please hold_ look. I’m here, man. Take however long you need.”

 

“You talked to _Shiro about this?”_ Keith might have moaned, one hand coming up to cover his eyes. “Lance, I will never hear the end of it now.”

 

“Shiro the Gay Guru is a thing, now.” Lance sounded delighted by Keith’s pain. “He walked me through the whole questioning one’s sexual identity process. Pretty sure I’m bi, in case you were wondering. Man, good thing I figured this out now, and not earlier, because I would have had the _worst_ crush on your big brother, like, _wow—_ ”

 

Keith’s hand flew to cover Lance’s mouth. “No, do not start with that, please.”

 

A kiss brushed against his palm, and now Keith’s face burned. He pulled his hand back, the skin tingling, and ran that same hand through his hair. “Okay. Okay, so.”

 

“So,” Lance agreed, leaning back and ruffling Aldrin’s fur. The wolf made a sound not unlike a purr and nudged his head into Lance’s stomach. Lance chuckled and kept scratching along Aldrin’s back.

 

Keith pushed his breath out between pursed lips, glancing up at Lance through his bangs. “If we’re not all arrested, quarantined, whatever … I’d like to see your family. With you.”

 

“Yeah?” Lance smiled, tentative but sweet. “That’s cool.”

 

“And if we’re not strung up as traitors … I think it would be nice … If you could introduce me … as your boyfriend.”

 

Lance’s smile transformed into a grin that lit up his eyes. This made something ache in Keith’s chest — a familiar skip of his heartbeat, one that had been happening for weeks. One that he could now recognize and name.

 

“So … how do you want to do this?” Keith asked, and then smacked his forehead. “I mean, the whole … relationship in general, not, like, anything that _fast._ Um, unless you wanted to talk about that now—”

 

The laughter brought Keith around, and he sighed, smiling at his own ridiculousness. Keith huffed out a brief laugh of his own when Lance pushed at Aldrin gently and said, “Hey, look, Al, I gotta cozy up with my boyfriend right now. Boyfriend’s dog isn’t going to cut it anymore.” A growl of displeasure. “I will still cuddle when you’ve got the urge, just saying that you can’t be first in line anymore, buddy.” Aldrin playfully nipped at Lance’s fingers and then disappeared.

 

Lance pressed himself into Keith’s side, one hand resting on Keith’s knee. “Okay?”

 

“Yes? Yeah.” It was warm, Lance’s hand. Keith was surely still bright red in the face, but he didn’t care.

 

“Good. So. We do this as slow as you want to. Personally, I’m not ready for more than cuddles and kisses. But if you aren’t there yet, I can wait. Also, are we telling anyone? And who are we telling, if we are? Aside from my family, obviously, since you just said—”

 

Keith raised his hand, his fingers stroking down Lance’s ear. That got him a shudder and Lance’s voice fading mid-word. Keith kept tracing his ear as he spoke, “Well, we tell everyone who asks, I guess. Don’t need to make a big announcement. We’ll just … be. And it’ll be … good. The cuddles, and kisses, I mean. That’s fine. I’m there for that.”

 

“Yeah?” Lance’s grin had an edge to it now, his eyes half-lidded, his voice breathy. “Can that be a now thing?”

 

“It was a thing as soon as I said the word _boyfriend,_ Lance,” Keith said with his own sly little grin.

 

When Lance leaned in to press their lips together, it was a bit clumsily — Lance was laughing, and Keith couldn’t stop smiling. But eventually, that soft barely-there touch intensified — Keith let himself give in to Lance, to the way he moved ever so slightly against him. One of Lance’s hands had come up to rest against the back of Keith’s neck, and Keith mirrored him. Lance pushed in closer, his lips parting, and Keith learned, imitated, letting loose a breathy little sigh that he would _absolutely deny_ came from him.

 

He wasn’t quite sure exactly when Lance ended up with two arms wrapped around Keith’s shoulders — all he knew was that Lance had overbalanced due to his awkward sideways sprawl. Keith secured him against his chest with two arms around Lance’s back. Lance was still in an odd, slanted position, but with Keith essentially cradling him in his arms, the kissing could continue, and that was the only thing Keith cared about right then.

 

He was grateful that the interruption, when it inevitably showed up, arrived when he and Lance had wound down. They lay on their sides, facing the blazing stars — Lance had his back pressed against Keith’s chest, and Keith had an arm around his waist, loose and lazy. He pressed a kiss to top of Lance’s head, just as a voice rung out, “Hm, well, that’s a sweet picture.”

 

They both glanced back towards the doorway, Pidge and Hunk standing there with broad grins on their faces. Hunk was the one who had spoken; he had his tablet up, clearly having _actually_ just taken a picture. The Yellow Paladin waved with one hand, the other still holding up his pocket computer. “Hey, dudes. You in the mood for some grub?”

 

“All we need now is Matt and Kuron to stop mooning over each other, and our entire journey out to space will have been worth it,” Pidge said dryly, but she was grinning at them. “I’m a little bitter that you couldn’t cut the pining off _at the beginning_ of this epic journey.”

 

“I wasn’t pining,” Lance protested immediately, though he didn’t sit up — he just turned a little so that he was on his back, one arm behind his head as he glared up at Pidge and Hunk.

 

Pidge cleared her throat and turned to Hunk. “ _But, Hunk, Keith is like, cool and mature now? I mean, he’s also a total dork, but a hot, cool, mature one.”_ Her voice was high and nasally, not at all like Lance, but Keith laughed all the same, shooting Lance a sidelong look.

 

“Hot, cool, mature …” Keith began, but Lance elbowed Keith before he could really get to teasing, and Keith just laughed in return.

Hunk pointed at Pidge, affecting a far deeper tone. “ _But Lance, you’re hot, and you’re much more mature than you were at the Garrison. You totally have a chance. Also, Sharpshooter is a way cooler nickname than The Tailor.”_

“It is,” Keith agreed, trying to keep a straight face. “Totally turns me on.”

 

“Hey, hey, too much!” Pidge cried out. Then she cackled. “Lance, if you get any redder, we’re gonna have to take you to medical, and Hunk made his fake pizza, so …”

 

Lance sat up immediately, all but jumping to his feet. “Holy shit, Keith, we gotta go before Matt eats it all.”

 

Keith let himself be hauled upright. He couldn’t help the stupid smile on his face as he took in disaster that was Lance’s hair, his rumpled shirt, and the faint red mark on his neck.

 

Lance glanced back, and he breathed out a laugh. “Dude, your hair.”

 

Keith raised his eyebrows, pulling a band off his wrist and quickly tying his hair back into a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. “And now it’s fine. What are you going to do?”

 

Lance blinked a few times, mouth parted on unspoken words. He blinked twice more, closed his mouth, and quickly ran his hands through his own hair a few times. It tamed the worst of it, though it still looked … decidedly not neat. And quite obvious as to _why_ it wasn’t. Pidge was groaning, demanding they hurry up before she had to commit fratricide to get a slice of heaven. Keith grabbed one of Lance’s hands before he could question it, grinning broadly at Lance’s little startled jump.

 

Hunk threw an arm around Keith’s shoulders when they were close enough, praising him for finally ending Lance’s misery, while Pidge grabbed Lance’s free arm, demanding that they keep their _extra soppy happy fun times_ behind closed doors.

 

 

******

 

Lance had a lot of worries about Earth, about his family, and those dark thoughts plagued him during the last three days before they arrived. The anxiety was made bearable by Keith’s presence at his side. Those grey-purple eyes staring at him so warmly that Lance felt like his heart would burst from giddiness. He still teased and mocked relentlessly, and Keith gave back as good as he got, but everything felt light and floaty, as if the gravity had malfunctioned, but only inside of him.

 

Shiro seemed particularly pleased — he couldn’t seem to stop ribbing Keith, constantly, and Keith let him, which had Lance grinning every time the two brothers (playfully) argued. However, Shiro looked paler and thinner lately, eating less as the Earth loomed in closer on their charted course. Kuron and Matt (walking on egg shells around each other) did their best to help Keith nag Shiro into eating and resting more, but Lance made sure that Shiro still had autonomy. The former Black Paladin remained a part of Voltron’s leadership, sharing a role with Allura and Keith, and moreover, _Shiro actually knows what he needs right now — a few sleepless nights are kinda unavoidable at this point, guys. Don’t treat him like a kid._

Keith hated that Lance was _enabling Shiro’s self-destructive behaviour_ , and that cued up their first big fight as a couple, less than three days into their relationship. While freaking out about what it would all mean for them, Lance didn’t back down — he _knew_ that he was _right, coño._ Eventually, Keith conceded that maybe Lance had a point … Lance disguised his relief with laughter, and he promised that next time they fought, Lance would be the one in the wrong to even things out. But then Keith actually admitted _out loud_ that he was just grateful that he could fight with Lance as his friend, and then kiss him to make up afterwards as his boyfriend. Which they did. Make out that is. A lot.

 

The fight had been a good distraction, right up until they arrived back to Earth. The Galra Empire had sent forward scouts already, and a fraction of their fleet. It had taken _too much_ out of Team Voltron to fight them off, and that was a bad sign for the future. _Voltron’s Citadel_ wasn’t the Castle — it couldn’t recharge the Lions with the same power and efficiency. Allura suspected the Lions would never be at full power until they could access the plans Sam Holt had and rebuilt the Castle at its original specifications.

 

And now they could, hopefully.

 

Because Earth saw them defend, and they were ready to do whatever it took to fight the Galra, alongside Voltron.

 

The military tribunals, the court martials, that was all up in the air, but the fight was here and now, and just this once, humanity seemed to rational enough (or scared enough) to put that as the priority.

 

Keith grasped Lance’s hand as they stood in a room with two dozen military and world leaders, with a dozen more cameras pointed at them and broadcasting out to the entire Earth (Kuron and Matt had disappeared to join Sam Holt, to immediately begin work on the new Castle ship, and to reach out to all of the Paladins' families before the news officially broke).

 

Allura made a brief speech about unity and hope, introducing the Earth to the Alteans for the first time … She stood aside and asked Shiro to do the rest — they must have planned this, since Shiro didn’t flinch as he stepped up. Lance was so damn _proud_ to call him family.

 

Shiro, who the Garrison had blamed for the Kerberos failure. Takashi Shirogane, the best pilot the Earth had ever seen, and who the Garrison hadn’t even wanted to fly out to the stars. He stood there with his nearly white silvery hair and his new Olkari arm, and he told the world that they could stand, fight, and win. That he was living proof of the impossible. Lance’s hero worship had died down now that he knew Shiro more as a person, and less like the Garrison’s poster boy, but damned if that hero worship didn’t flare up again as Shiro _did that._

 

When the cameras turned off and the leaders all began asking their questions, it was all done with deference towards Shiro, and awe towards Allura. But Shiro wouldn’t let them shadow the accomplishments of those around him, which shouldn’t have surprised Lance … Yet, somehow, it did.

 

“Lance has been one of our key strategic minds,” Shiro said without preamble. “And he serves as Keith’s right-hand — Keith Kogane, the Black Paladin and leader of Voltron Lions.” Lance felt another flare of vindictive pride as some of the Garrison officials, like Iverson, looked at Keith with respect, but also a touch of fear, or even regret. Where Lance had once relished the idea of Keith being kicked out of the Garrison, now he had to hold back a fierce anger at those who had done it.

 

Keith stood at Lance’s side, and he didn’t disguise the tight grip he had on Lance’s hand, using said grip to tug Lance close to him as every evaluating gaze in the room was directed at them both. Keith stuck out his chin as if to _dare anyone to say anything,_ and Lance … He just tried to project confidence and stoicism that he absolutely _did not feel with all these really freaking important people staring at him._ Good thing Keith had a hold of his arm — he felt the impulse to _wave,_ and that really wouldn’t have been that suave of him.

 

Shiro continued on, “Hunk and Pidge are technological and engineering geniuses, so any questions you have about our tools and weapons should be directed towards them. Keep in mind that Altean technology is far more advanced than our own, and as a result, we have been tasked with safeguarding most of its secrets. We will not violate the trust of Princess Allura and Commander Coran.”

 

Shiro’s no nonsense tone, the unwavering stare he levelled each and every person in that room with, kept everyone civil as discussion broke out.

 

Lance had hope … He knew Keith was more cynical, expecting it all to fall apart eventually, and maybe those doubts would creep in on Lance as well. But for now, he was firm in the knowledge that this team could do _damn near anything,_ and that included kicking the crap out of the Galra Empire and defending their home and the universe, once and for all.

 

Keith answered questions, Lance jumped in with advice or commentary (which Shiro nodded at, and he noticed that the _actual President of the United States_ seemed impressed, which … Lance did not have the capacity to process), and by the time they'd spoken enough for their voices to go hoarse, they were permitted to leave.

 

Lance’s insides clenched up, even though he knew it would be at least twenty-four hours before he could head out to his family. _Voltron’s Citadel_ was here within Garrison property, which is where they all insisted on staying until all procedures were completed; they needed to stick around for the Garrison to officially debrief them, and there would probably be all kinds of medical tests to get through … Keith squeezed his hand, and Lance grinned at him easily — they were good at detecting when the other was getting a little _too_ lost inside his own head.

 

And as they exited the bunker beneath the Garrison, where they’d been for _nine hours_ since the broadcast, Keith yanked Lance to a halt. Lance looked where Keith’s eyes were staring and he caught sight of dark brown hair, a pair of gold-brown eyes behind silver frames … Lance knew who that was — Shiro had told him, had finally explained that hidden pain that flared up on occasion behind his gaze, when he’d been talking Lance through his feelings for Keith.

 

“Did Shiro go back to the ship?” Keith murmured into Lance’s ear.

 

“Yeah, I saw him head that way,” Lance whispered back.

 

“Okay, then … let’s do this.”

 

Lance watched, still grinning, as Keith rushed towards Adam, who didn’t seem to recognize at him first. He fought Keith’s grip for a split second before he tore his eyes from the crowds behind them to stare at the person obstructing his path. “Who — _Keith. Keith, that’s you._ ”

 

“Yes, yes it is.” Keith had described Adam as fairly reserved, but that didn’t come across to Lance at all — not based on the way he all but tackled Keith into a massive hug.

 

“Holy shit, you’re so huge, Keith. I saw you on the broadcast, but that was …” Adam’s voice faded when he looked past Keith and didn’t see Shiro. “Where is he?”

 

“Back at our ship,” Keith said. “He’s … different now.”

 

“I saw.” Adam swallowed hard. His control frayed before their eyes, his body trembling. “Keith, please, take me to him.” He spoke steadily, but only just.

 

Keith nodded. He turned towards Lance, who closed the distance between them with three long strides, his hand stuck out. “Hey, Adam, I’m Lance.”

 

Adam’s wild gaze seemed to have difficulty settling, but he managed to take in Lance’s appearance after a moment, and then take his hand after another brief pause. “Yes, I … I heard you’re one of the knights?”

 

“Paladin,” Lance corrected. “And yeah, that’s me. I was at the Garrison at the same as Keith, though I doubt you’d remember me.”

 

“No, I don’t,” Adam said weakly. “Sorry. And sorry that … this happened.” He didn’t seem to want to specify.

 

“It wasn’t all great, no, especially the part where our families …” Lance had to stop, clear his throat. “But, um, you get that. And hey, at least I …” He was about to say _got a boyfriend out of it,_ but would that be insensitive to say to the man who had lost (or thought he’d lost) his ex-fiancé? Probably. “I got a giant super cool spaceship Lion out of it. Two, really. Also, met a space princess, gained a space uncle, and got to hang out with the coolest guy to ever graduate from the Garrison … Which, uh … Yeah, you know that, too.” As he spoke, he felt another gut-wrenching twist of his heart — would Adam just hurt Shiro more? Lance had given Shiro pep talks about this; Kuron and Keith seemed certain that Adam loved Shiro still, but the last thing Lance wanted was to cause Shiro yet more pain, and if Adam …

 

“Let’s go,” Keith said. “Sorry, Adam, Lance is awesome at piloting and shooting, but his brain-to-mouth filter needs work.” He seemed to be rolling his eyes at Lance, but Lance just rolled his eyes back — he’d seen the soft smile Keith had tried to hide.

 

They led Adam away from the rest of the Garrison officials — they were crowding around Allura and Coran, and a few more were eagerly calling Pidge and Hunk’s names. Adam nearly clipped Keith’s heels as he closed in on him, clearly desperate to catch sight of Shiro. It made Lance happy for Keith’s big brother, Lance’s mentor — his family. The taut sensation in his chest eased (the worry that Shiro wouldn’t get this one spot of happiness that he so richly deserved).

 

Keith pushed Adam up the ramp of the ship, past any prying eyes, and slammed the button to seal the ship behind them.

 

As soon as the ramp retracted and the bay doors closed, Shiro appeared. He stood in the doorway leading off to the main hallway. He had taken off his armour — he wore loose pants and a soft long-sleeved shirt, but no gloves, his metal hand gleaming in the fighter bay lights.

 

Adam froze beside Keith, and Keith gave him one last pat on the shoulder before retreating, pulling Lance to another doorway. Just as they entered it, Lance yanked Keith off in the opposite direction of their rooms.

 

“Lance!” Keith hissed. “What are you—”

 

“I’m _not_ spying on Shiro, and neither are you,” Lance said immediately, which had Keith ducking his head, and _ha, know you too well, my mullet-headed dude_. “But we are going to wait right over there, in the common area, in case he needs us.”

 

Keith opened his mouth to object, but Lance was fast — he had him tangled up in his arms, his mouth pressing insistently, lips parting when Keith tried to voice a protest that quickly faded. They ended up stretched out on the common room couches, Lance leaning back into Keith’s chest as he relentlessly quizzed him about his family members’ names.

 

Because Keith was going to meet Lance’s family. Because Lance was his friend, his boyfriend, and _mi casa es su casa, but even better, mi familia es tuya, querido._ Keith had gone silent for a long minute, causing Lance to worry briefly — but then he’d held Lance closer, tangling their legs together.

Keith had a family with Shiro, Lance, and everyone else from the Castle of Lions … But Lance wanted to give him _more._ He figured it would be nice to belong somewhere else, somewhere _here, on Earth._ Keith had only had fleeting moments of peace on their home planet — with his dad, with his Shiro … And those moments of peaceful belonging had been violently torn away from him. Lance swore, even as he teased Keith for mixing up his Tío Eduardo with his cousin Eddie, that Keith wouldn’t ever have to worry about _not belonging._ Never again.

And Lance hoped like hell that Shiro was regaining that same sense of belonging, of _family,_  just down the hall from Keith and Lance’s little self-made haven.

 

******

 

Shiro stared at Adam, only vaguely registering the way Lance and Keith swiftly abandoned them, leaving Shiro alone with a man he hadn’t seen in years. With a man who had _left_ Shiro before Shiro had left him. Before Shiro had gone on the mission that would change _every conceivable aspect of himself. Literally._ Not a single assumption about  _worst-case scenarios_ had been right.

 

Except Adam _had_ experienced one of the worst assumed outcomes — Adam had been forced to hear about Shiro’s death by _pilot error._  

 

Shiro knew that Adam had loved him _then,_ but Shiro had _died,_ and it had been _years,_ so if Adam had moved on, then no matter what Kuron, Keith, and Lance had said … Shiro would let him go.

 

“That face you make when you’ve reached a painful decision … It’s the same.” Adam took one tentative step forward.

 

“I … Hi, Adam,” Shiro said. He only just stopped himself from waving like an idiot.

 

Adam had been taking another step, but he stopped again to cover half his face with his hand. He let loose a half-chuckle. “How are you still so ridiculous.” He sounded like he was crying, but the fondness, _that_ was what Shiro chose to latch onto.

 

Shiro had no idea if he had the right to walk over there and take Adam into his arms, so he held off and waited. Adam’s hand dropped — Shiro could make out an extra shine to his eyes, even with the silver framed glasses. He shrugged at Adam, smiling faintly. “No one’s ever made me as ridiculous as you do. It’s the effect you have on me.”

 

A single tear slipped down Adam’s cheek, but before Shiro could react, Adam wiped it away with two fingers. No other tears seemed close to spilling over, but when Adam spoke again, his voice seemed heavy-laden with them. “I don’t know how to … talk to you.”

 

“You’re doing just fine,” Shiro said quietly.

 

“Then I don’t know how to …” Adam didn’t move when Shiro took a step closer; he just closed his eyes for a moment. “Takashi …”

 

Hearing his name, the name that he hadn’t heard in _years,_ said with agony permeating each syllable … Something must have broken in Shiro up there amongst the stars — even the pain in Adam’s voice had his heart pounding with joy. Because _his name_ and _Adam’s voice_ were a combination he never expected to experience again.

 

He reached out almost without conscious thought, though he tried to telegraph his movements as much as possible. Adam took the tiniest step forward, and that was enough for Shiro. He had him wrapped up in his arms, hugged him so tightly it must’ve hurt, but Adam didn’t say a word — he just buried his face in Shiro’s shoulder, two fists clutching the front of the dark grey shirt that Shiro wore.

 

As the seconds stretched into minutes, Shiro felt the tension ease in Adam — his muscles loosening, his weight settling against Shiro’s as though he were the only thing capable of holding Adam upright. Their breathing became synchronized, and their heartbeats were nearly perfectly unified.

 

If Adam wanted to stay like this the entire night, Shiro had no objections, despite knowing that they had many (too many) things to discuss.

 

Perhaps Adam had picked up on that last thought as his head lifted gradually. Adam’s left hand slid up lightly, just brushing Shiro’s right shoulder … When he looked into Shiro’s eyes, it was from close enough to see the golden flecks in that rich brown gaze. Shiro nodded once. Adam’s fingers sought out where flesh shifted into metal, and then trailed down Shiro’s faux bicep, gripping there for a moment. The Olkari tech was incredible — he could sense pressure, as well as varying temperatures. Right then, Adam’s hands were cold.

 

“You didn’t crash.” Adam said this without inflection. “I fucking knew it.”

 

“You thought it was too dangerous a mission.” Shiro’s arms loosened, but Adam didn’t step back. “How could you be so sure?”

 

“Because I wasn’t worried about you _crashing._ I was worried about you … getting worse once you were there. I’ve seen you fly hungover, with a concussion, and that time with the food poisoning—”

 

“Huh, that one I don’t remember. Probably for the best.”

 

“— And you’re a stupidly, supernaturally amazing pilot, Takashi.” Another thrill, a shudder he couldn’t quite contain as Adam said his name. It earned him another small squeeze from Adam’s hand. “I was worried that you would come back to me, and all that we would have left would be your worst days. Or even more terrifying, you worst days would happen _up there,_ and you’d come back and all we’d have were your _last days._ And that wasn’t even considering everything that could go wrong that was _outside_ of your control. Of all the risks you’ve taken, this one … I couldn’t, I couldn’t watch you choose to leave me behind when we had _so few days_ left.”

 

“We had at least two years, according to the doctors,” Shiro said, and how were they having this argument again? “I would’ve been back before then.”

 

“But they couldn’t predict how quickly you would degenerate,” Adam countered, and yes, this was almost word for word their fight from years ago, just without the raised voices, and all spoken in the past tense. Which made Shiro pause … Was Adam aware that … Shiro lifted his flesh hand from Adam’s back, resting it on Adam’s neck instead. Adam stopped talking.

 

“Adam, do you … You know that …”

 

“You’re alive, and it’s been years, so, yes, Takashi, _I know._ ” There were the tears again, though they refused to fall. “If you’re not completely healed, then you’ve been given far more time than we …”

 

“It’s gone,” Shiro confirmed, feeling Adam’s pulse jump beneath his palm. He smiled, his own tears having no reservations about sliding down his cheeks. “It’s gone, Adam, there’s nothing—”

 

Adam cracked, sobbing, one hand coming up to muffle the noise. The other hand swiftly followed, and Shiro gathered him into his arms once more, let him weep into his chest. The calm settled around them again after a few minutes. Adam pulled away, a handkerchief emerging from his pocket, and Shiro coughed out a wet laugh, because some things were so wonderfully _the same._

 

“I don’t know if it was worth it,” Adam confessed. “I’m selfish enough to want you alive, but you …” He raised his eyes, catching on Shiro’s scar, his silver hair, and then plummeting down to his arm. “God, the price might have been too high for you, and I can’t …”

 

“I don’t know if it was worth it either,” Shiro echoed. He lifted his metal hand, showing it to Adam. “You’ve heard of the Galra Empire by now.”

 

“Sam Holt told us. I read every single piece of intel there was after they appeared, and I heard parts of your war council.” Adam breathed out slowly. “You didn’t really talk much about you. You mentioned being captured …”

 

“There was an arena,” Shiro said, and he just wanted to say this once and get it over with, “where they liked to pit their prisoners against monsters or … against each other. I made sure Matt didn’t have to … I was going to die anyway.”

 

Adam looked faint, his skin taking on a green tinge. Shiro glanced around frantically; a small couch was tucked into a corner where the ship mechanics caught naps when they weren’t working on the fighters. He carefully led Adam over, and he watched with concern as he collapsed onto the couch as though his legs could no longer hold him up.

 

Shiro waited, taking a seat with about a foot of distance between them. Adam turned, kicking off his shoes as he lifted his legs fully up onto the sofa, facing Shiro with an eerily calm expression. He inhaled deeply, and on the exhale he said, “Takashi. Tell me everything.”

 

And so Shiro did. He worked his way from the beginning — from the Galra Empire first capturing them on Kerberos — all the way through his time in the arena, which remained spotty at best in his memories. He admitted to only having flashes of losing his arm as well … Though he didn’t lose it so much as it was _taken_ from him.

 

The pallor of Adam’s skin alarmed Shiro, so he stopped, waiting for Adam to swallow a few times. Adam's eyes glazed over as he said absently, “Maybe … That was the arm that presented the worst symptoms, and they …”

 

“I was their champion. I was … valued entertainment. Makes sense.” Shiro had to speak in a fairly detached manner, as if it had happened to someone else. The horror of being forced down onto that table, of whirring blades and cauterizing lasers … He couldn’t think too hard about it, couldn’t see it as himself except in the most distant of ways. Adam regained a bit of colour, and he met Shiro’s eyes, his gaze once again grounded in the present.

 

Shiro skipped to the escape with Ulaz, to stealing a ship and crash-landing in the desert just outside of the Garrison. Adam reached out in shock, his hand gripping Shiro’s flesh and blood shoulder. “You were _here?”_ he said hoarsely. “ _You were here, years ago …”_

When he realized what the Garrison had done, or tried to do, to Shiro, Adam’s face went closed off, the kind of fury Shiro had only seen a handful of times. He took a chance, resting his hand over Adam’s on his shoulder, stroking the back of it lightly. “But I survived it. I’m here now.”

 

Shiro waited until that violent storm of anger wasn’t so near to the surface before he continued the story. Their joined hands dropped into the minimal space between them.

 

He spoke about Keith’s rescue, of the others joining in, and finding the Blue Lion. Here, Adam relaxed and seemed to actually _enjoy_ aspects of Shiro’s recollection. He shook his head with an affectionate smile when Shiro told him of Lance and Keith’s rivalry, of the entire team’s inability to work together at first. He marvelled when Shiro tried to explain the nature of the Lion connection, of Voltron’s. Adam started rattling off an endless series of engineering questions of which Shiro could only answer a fraction. Adam all but pouted at him when Shiro couldn’t deliver satisfactory explanations, and Shiro promised to introduce him to Coran and Allura, who could definitely give him far better information.

 

Eventually, Shiro had to wind down, his voice cracking — he skipped a huge chunk of middle, and decided to get the worst over with.

 

“The Galra Empire didn’t cure me out of charity.” Shiro stopped to find the best words for this next bombshell. “They didn’t even mean to cure me, I don’t think. Not really. When I … At the end of one massive battle, I took a huge hit in Black, and the Black Lion … saved me, in a way. But also, didn’t.”

 

Adam blinked at him, and had those dark rings under his eyes been there this entire time? Shiro just realized how thin and exhausted Adam looked. “Just say it, Takashi.”

 

“I died.”

 

A sharply indrawn breath. Silence. A long, slow exhale.

 

Adam raised a shaking hand to his own face, removing his glasses, which he dropped carelessly into his lap, and covering his eyes. “How … Explain it to me.” He stayed that way, his entire body shaking.

 

He had to get this over with as quickly as possible, for both their sakes. He rushed on, “I died, my body was gone. It wasn’t meant to exist inside of Black, it couldn’t, so in the physical sense, I was dead, and all that was left was … my spirit? My soul?” Shiro sucked in a trembling breath of his own. “Before I could move on for good, Black saved me. And I stayed there for a long time, which gave Haggar the opportunity to enact a plan she must have been concocting from almost the beginning, I would guess. Since after the arena? During the arena?”

 

Shiro waited for Adam to meet his gaze again. Those honey-brown eyes were dry, focused, but so, so weary. He considered putting this off, but once again, he just wanted it _over._ “They had made … clones. And they implanted one with my memories and sent him to the team. He was a sleeper agent, under Haggar’s control. The short version is that Keith defeated him in battle, brought his body back to Allura. By that point, Keith knew where I really was, and Allura … She brought me back. In … here.”

 

Adam blinked very, very slowly. “This … isn’t your body.”

 

“It is now,” Shiro said hurriedly. “But that’s why I’m cured. No sense in making defective clones.”

 

Adam let loose a short, hysterical laugh. “Of course not, but they went through the trouble of chopping off limbs and giving them scars …” Adam gagged, his hand tightening around Shiro’s painfully. “Oh god …”

 

“They only did that with the clone they sent out to the team …” Shiro gave a lopsided little smile. “But the other clones were … fine. Two arms, no scars, no …” He lifted his free hand to wave about his now silver-haired head. “Haggar’s connection to the clone was broken during that fight with Keith, so …”

 

“Was he a person, really? And not just … an evil … thing?” Adam seemed to be losing the ability to communicate clearly. “Damn it, you know what I mean. Sentience. Autonomy. Did he have those?”

 

“Yes,” Shiro said firmly. “His name is Kuron. When Allura used her Altean alchemic abilities, we swapped places — I was in this body, he was in the Black Lion. And we were connected. The Black Lion facilitated that, I think. Until we got him a body to live in. Now … neither of us is connected to the Black Lion.” Shiro had thought he’d made his peace with that last fact, but a taste of sadness coated his words.

 

Clearly, Adam had to take several minutes to absorb that. Once he did, he said, “I think I understand. Where is he now?”

 

“On this ship, most likely. This is where we’re living until we can see our families.” Shiro tried not to react to Adam’s flinch. “He’s … going to look more like me than I do. Like I did … before.”

 

“You put him in _your —_ I mean, _another clone body?”_ Adam threw his head back, letting go of Shiro’s hand to scrub at his face. “Fucking hell, Takashi.”

 

“That’s it, that’s the worst of it,” Shiro hurried to say. “Please, Adam …”

 

“Please what?” Adam stared at him, looking agitated. “Please believe you? I do, I believe you completely. There’s too much evidence, and Sam Holt told me some of it already. But not only that, it’s _you,_ Takashi. You’ve never been a liar.” Adam rubbed at his face again. “Please don’t hate you? I never did. Fuck, I was angry, _furious_ that you left. But I left you first. And I paid for it—”

 

“Adam, no one deserves what happened to you.” Shiro slid over, pressing in close, giving Adam leave to lean away. He didn’t, but he did shake his head in denial of Shiro’s words.

 

“I don’t believe in cosmic justice, divine retribution, but after I knew you were alive … After Sam Holt came to me, and told me some of it … I figured it was only fair that I had to face your death, then live with you far away, fighting a war I couldn’t fight alongside you … Face the extreme likelihood of you dying _again._ It was right. It was what I _deserved, I don’t care—”_

 

 _“No one_ in my family deserves anything other than happiness,” Shiro said defiantly. “And that damn well includes you, Adam, whether we’re … what we were, or not. You made a choice, the choice you thought was best for you, after you tried to get me to see what was best for _me, for us._ You were right, you know. Going out there … it did kill me, in the end.”

 

Adam started crying again. Despite that, he spoke in a fierce tone, “Not because of _you._ Not because of anything either of us argued about. It’s a fucking moot point, Takashi. I am ready to let that go and focus on the here and now because …” Adam laughed humourlessly. “There is a lot to deal with, and we do not have the time or the energy to add old baggage onto that.”

 

“Does … that mean …” Shiro yawned, and it caught him by surprise. “Damn. Sorry.”

 

Adam scrubbed at his face one last time, erasing the tear tracks and mussing his hair. “Takashi. Take me to your room. We’re going to sleep this off, and then we’re going to have whatever the hell passes for breakfast on this ship. After that …” Adam laughed again, but the sound was softer, warmer. Achingly familiar. “After that we’ll talk. About … what we are now. But we are done for tonight. Today. Whatever the hell time it is.”

 

Shiro stood up, helping Adam to his feet. Adam didn’t reach for him again, but they walked close together, passing through the common area … Shiro immediately spotting Lance and Keith, passed out together, Lance on top of Keith’s chest, snoring lightly, with Keith’s arms loosely around him, their legs tangled. Aldrin was on the floor beside them; the wolf lifted his head as Shiro and Adam came into the room, sniffed the air once, and then dropped back down into a ball to sleep.

 

Adam pointed at the sleeping pair, and murmured, “Keith and I are going to have a chat about this.” He sounded amused. Between Shiro, Kuron, and Adam … Keith was in for a truly delightfully miserable time of it. Shiro allowed himself a grin as he imagined the indignation and the angry flush on Keith’s still fairly adolescent-looking face.

 

He led Adam towards the crew quarters, into his bunk — Ryner, Coran, and Allura had insisted that Shiro claim one of the larger bedrooms. He sat on his queen-sized bed, now even more grateful to them for their generosity, as he and Adam could sleep comfortably without … worrying over space. He tossed Adam a pair of loose pants and a T-shirt. Without hesitation, Adam stripped down with military efficiency and crawled into bed alongside Shiro.

 

There wasn’t any discomfort or tension. They were both so exhausted that as soon as they’d settled on their respective sides, they dropped off into sleep. Adam first, and when Shiro saw his breaths deepen and even, he fell into welcome darkness soon after.

 

******

 

The war would consume their time soon, but Shiro didn’t let himself worry about it for once.

 

He laughed as he watched Lance chase around his and Hunk's little cousins, nieces, and nephews. He grinned at Keith, who sat in a chair next Lance’s oldest sister, holding Lance’s newest niece, a tiny six-week old baby. He seemed both mildly terrified but also hopelessly devoted, and Shiro held back on the teasing only because it warmed him to see Keith so relaxed and happy. Krolia had taken the seat on Keith’s other side, conversing with Lance’s sister easily; her eyes kept darting down to Keith, watching him hold the baby with such love that Shiro ached for the years they didn’t get to have together as mother and son.

 

Hunk manned the grill, cheerfully ordering Coran around, who took said orders with a joyful sort of aplomb, eagerly consuming a cremita de leche with one hand as he chopped up vegetables with the other. Lance’s family had welcomed them all with open arms, and nowhere was that more evident than with Lance’s mother and father, who kept walking around to check in all of them (though obviously they checked in with Lance the most, their hands constantly touching his face, his arms, his hair, their eyes full of awe even though Lance and everyone else had been back for a month now).

 

Pidge hadn’t moved from her mother’s side, though she occasionally threw carefully chosen pebbles at Lance, distracting him enough to allow the kids to gain valuable ground on him. Allura drifted to each of their families, regaling them stories of the Paladins’ heroics. She was currently speaking with Shiro’s grandparents, and they stared up at her with the kind of wonderment Allura seemed to be getting from just about everyone on their home planet.

 

Kuron seemed slightly uncomfortable — but he also appeared to be relaxing a little more with each instance that Matt glanced his way, or made a point to converse quietly with him, or introduced him to yet another member of the various families. At that moment, they were off in a corner of the backyard, in deep conversation with one of Lance’s older sisters, Hunk’s eldest brother, and Lance’s grandparents. There were a ton hand gestures on Matt’s part, and Shiro would guess that he was telling some kind of rebel battle story, with the way he kept miming explosions. Kuron looked impossibly tender every time he looked towards Matt, and Shiro had to hide his smirk behind his glass of sangria.

 

Ryner and Sam Holt were teaching a few of the kids how to work several small rover units that Sam had designed specifically for this occasion back on the ship (with some _interference_ from Pidge, Matt, and Hunk). The more technically minded children were already programming them to flash different colours and fly high over everyone’s heads. Shiro tilted his head back to watch them dance in the sky, which was taking on that golden-orange glow of sunset.

 

“Enough sleeping, Takashi. You can’t be catching a nap in the middle of a party and proving all of Lance’s space grandpa jokes right.”

 

Shiro glanced to one side, watching as Adam resumed his seat right by Shiro, holding his own large glass of sangria, which he proceeded to chug half of in one go.

 

“Enough drinking, Adam. Unless you’ve stopped being an absolute demon when you’re hungover, including the Exorcist level vomiting.”

 

Adam shot him a lethal look over the rim of the cup, and Shiro broke into laughter, lifting his own half-finished beverage (drank at a far more leisurely pace) towards his boyfriend. Adam clinked it somewhat reluctantly, and then made a point to put his half full glass down by his feet.

 

Shiro watched him with an arched eyebrow as Adam straightened, his shoulders back, his gaze determined. “I have something to ask you, and I want to be clear on the fact that you can shut me down immediately if it’s not something you want to hear right now.”

 

His eyes narrowed at Adam, his face taking on a look of concerned confusion. But when Adam flushed becomingly with a soft smile of reassurance, Shiro relaxed, nodding towards him. “All right. Go ahead.”

 

“It needs a bit of … contextualizing, so bear with me.” Adam stared down at his lap for a moment. Shiro noticed that both of his hands were balled up into fists. He reached over. Adam flinched, but not away, just a small jump. His left hand loosened up, crossing over his still-clenched right hand to grasp Shiro’s. He smiled back at Shiro again, and finally began to explain, “After Kerberos, they … they contacted me to collect your things and deliver them to your grandparents.”

 

Shiro grimaced — he’d already heard pieces of this story, and each newly revealed bit sent a slicing pain through him. He made sure to nod at Adam, indicating that it was fine to continue.

 

“One of the things that I noticed was, well, the ring you gave me … That I gave back to you. You’d left it behind, obviously.” Adam sighed, his eyes closing briefly. “Which I came to understand and accept, though right then I … Well. I wore it, for a time.” _That_ Shiro hadn’t known, and he blinked back tears at the mental picture of Adam in mourning, wearing the ring that Shiro had given him so long ago. “But eventually I had to stop. I believe that, for you and me, that ring, it represents … a failure, on both on our parts, to keep a promise. We didn’t break it intentionally, but it was broken all the same. So I had it melted down.”

 

This didn’t hurt Shiro at all to hear. They’d had long discussions about how to merge their past with their present — how to move on without forgetting the lessons they’d learned from the pain, or the good experiences they’d come to treasure. Shiro had told Adam to do whatever he wanted with those physical reminders of their past relationship. The pictures, they kept, the ring … Shiro hadn’t mentioned it because he assumed it was either in a safety deposit box or simply … gone.

 

“What did you do with remnants?” Shiro asked curiously.

 

Adam smiled then, a touch afraid, a touch tentative. “Made something new.”

 

He took the hand that he held — Shiro’s left hand — and turned it palm up. Adam’s clenched right hand lifted from his lap and hovered over Shiro’s left. He took in another deep breath and released … two perfect rings.

 

Shiro stared down at them. The white gold of Adam’s ring was now part of two matching rings that each had two stripes, one wide, one narrow, of obsidian running through them. They were simple and elegant and _everything_. Shiro looked up at Adam, knowing perfectly well how shocked he must look. He hoped Adam could also read how _damn in love Shiro felt right in that moment._

 

Adam must have seen _something_ in Shiro’s gaze because his smile transformed — wider, happier, and faintly relieved. “If you want them, they’re yours.”

 

“Say the actual words, Adam,” Shiro insisted, his grin reaching epic proportions. “It’s only fair, since I did say them to you.”

 

“Takashi Shirogane, you absolute pain in the ass, annoying perfect pilot and commander, defender of the universe and utter failure at laundry and obeying speed limits,” Adam said imperiously, never wavering even as Shiro laughed loud and long. “I love you. Please, give me a chance to keep you. I offer myself in return, though it may not seem a fair trade.”

 

“More than a fair trade,” Shiro murmured as he leaned in, kissing Adam in the middle of this giant gathering of friends and family. He kept it brief, but he couldn’t resist cradling Adam’s face with his metal hand, watching Adam break into a matching grin, his eyes alight.

 

Shiro’s right hand fell away from Adam’s face to grasp his left. With smooth movements, no nervous shaking whatsoever — _because he was sure, he wanted this more than words in any language could express_ — he slid one of the rings, the smaller one clearly meant for Adam, onto the ring finger of his left hand. He then passed on the remaining band to Adam, who also took it without a single bit of hesitation or trembling. Shiro watched, his heart beating a swift, giddy rhythm, as those slender brown fingers slid the ring onto Shiro’s left hand.

 

They stared at their matching bands for a minute, and then looked up in unison. Adam leaned in first this time, and Shiro let loose a surprised but gleeful noise as _Adam_ took their kiss past what was probably appropriate for a public space.

 

The pressurized stream of cold water had them both reeling back, spluttering and squinting, wiping the droplets from their faces. Laughter surrounded them, and Shiro opened his waterlogged eyes to see a blurry version of Lance, armed with a water rifle, pointing and laughing along with everyone else. Shiro nearly gave him the finger, but stopped himself just in time — there were several children gathered about Lance’s legs, all of them _also_ bearing water guns and rifles.

 

“You don’t want to start this, Lance,” Shiro warned playfully. He stood up, and the kids all shrieked and giggled, moving as one to hide behind their leader.

 

Adam was standing up as well, and somehow, Shiro found he'd been handed a heavy water rifle. A pair of hands clad in fingerless gloves passed a weapon on to Shiro as well. Keith blinked up at him, his eyes flicking down to the ring once, winking, and then facing his boyfriend with a competitive glint.

 

“You know how this will end, Lance,” Keith said lazily. “With tears and bitter recriminations.”

 

“All right, chicos, chicas!” Lance announced, clearly ignoring Keith’s threat. He pointed his rifle high into the sky. “No surrender! No retreat! _Fuerza!_ ”

 

No one, aside from Keith and later, Shiro realized, Lance, had noticed the ring exchange. It made him grin ridiculously, made him oddly giddy to have this to himself for a little while. Adam seemed to be in no hurry to tell anyone, his focus completely on annihilating Lance and his team, which had grown to include Matt, Allura, and Coran.

 

The water fight took up everyone’s attention until the more adult of the adults called a halt for dinner. A few hours well into the night, all the food had been consumed, and everybody was splayed out on the beach, half-asleep on towels and beach chairs. All they seemed capable of doing was conversing in whispers, barely audible over the ocean waves.

 

The day after tomorrow, they had to report back to the Garrison, prepare to launch their first all out attack on the Galra Empire, but not a single one of them mentioned it. Instead, they stayed close to their families, their friends, their lovers — they watched the starry sky above the sea of their home, or their adopted home, and just felt grateful for this, _today._

Shiro had Adam in his arms, his Voltron family on either side of him, his grandparents and his new extended Earth family behind him, and the entire ocean at his feet. He smiled down into Adam’s wind-ruffled hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and interlacing the fingers of their left hands just to hear the _clink_ of their rings. He made a point to wink at Kuron, who had his arm around Matt’s waist as they lay back on a small towel together. Shiro allowed his eyes to close after Kuron shot him an answering happy grin.

 

Tonight, he would take this peace, this happiness, with no thought of tomorrow or the days after.

 

******

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, again, I hope you all enjoyed it! *hugs*
> 
> I based Shiro and Adam's rings off [this design here](https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/424253227387378756/).
> 
> If you like this, or space cowboys, and wanna see more writings, or just wanna hang out, you're always welcome on [my Tumblr](http://thisgirlhastales.tumblr.com/)! Thank you so much for reading! *many hugs*


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